


Of Trees, Gold and Suicidal Hobbits

by Razorling



Series: Feathersong [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Dwarves, Blood and Violence, Epic Battles, F/M, Fluff, Giant Spiders, Harpies, Harpy Bilbo, Hobbit Harpies, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mirkwood, Movie 2: The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, OP Harpies, POV Multiple, Soulmates, The Hobbit AU, Timeline What Timeline, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razorling/pseuds/Razorling
Summary: The journey so far was a rough one, yet Bilbo and The Company made it through though not unscathed. Will they survive the trials that await them in the shadows that lurk in Mirkwood? And of what it lies beyond?[Slow updates for a while.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there and welcome to part II of the Feathersong Series!
> 
> The last story I wrote in one go and posted but after rereading the first part I felt it a bit rushed so this story will be posted chapter by chapter as I go writing, as stated, it will be at least one chapter per week with a few exceptions, as said previously, I don't have a beta, so if you see any typos, grammatical errors or a horrible plot hole, please, feel free to point it out to me, also nice comments are a great motivation for me to write more and more. :)
> 
> Now, to the story!

**Of Trees, Gold, and Suicidal Hobbits**

╳╳ Prologue: Hazy mist in a maze of memories. ╳╳

 

Bilbo didn’t register exactly what he was doing when he kissed his beloved dwarf. In one moment he was there right in front of him, then he heard the words and then just… well, acted on instinct, like he seemed to be so prone to doing lately.

The pain turned unbearable though and when he disentangled himself from Thorin he saw the world tilt and slowly fade away once more.

His body was too weakened and even if he wished with all his might to stay awake, it gave up, his mind on the other hand, despite hazy and permeated by pain was still working, kind of, it was a near conscious thing. He felt something being wrapped around him, his broken wing being moved gently, but by Manwë the pain was so great it yanked out a groan from his still body, he could hear words, he knew they were directed to him, but the meaning was lost between the pain and nebulous world he was living at that moment.

His mind drifted, trying to distract itself from the outside world and his body’s condition, he lost himself in memories, some good ones, others not so much.

_The first clear thing that he heard was his mother singing him a lullaby when he was still so young his feathers looked more like fur, it swirled then and in the next second she was teaching him how to fly, ever gentle, ever caring; then, it was his father helping him to control his first feral transformation, firmly yet warmly grounding his mind with words of encouragement and support, it swirled again and he was seeing his mother teaching him how to use his body in a fight, yet even then her words were about gentleness and good deeds, about love and peace; then it was his father again, telling and showing him how better use the wind in his advantage in flight, in calm winds and gales; they hunting together, sometimes with Belladonna, others with Bungo or both of them at the same time, teaching him how to hunt without hurting the prey, how to kill quickly and swiftly and praying to Manwë and the Valar in thanks for providing them food… The three of them together in the so many parties of the Shire, marriages, birthdays… Happiness so easy to reach, so fulfilling._

_Memories of his childhood flowed haphazardly through his mind, misadventures, discussions, the time he ‘run away’ from home to rescue a princess from an evil dragon and getting hopelessly lost in the way, only to be found by his father a few days later, the poor harpy frantic with worry when he found him miles away from their home, his mother’s relieved tears, their warm embrace. They loved him so much, he always knew it and he loved them back in return with all his being._

_Then the winter came and suddenly the memory was not messy anymore, a clear picture of what once have happened._

_Everything was white, even the trees, even the sky._

_It started slowly, unsuspicious, at first it came the colder nights, there was still no snow, no clouds, just the cold, then the days started to get colder as well, the morning breeze gelid even with the sun up, weeks later the clouds started to appear, slowly gathering until covering the entire sky and then the snow came, again, quietly, inconspicuously, the children rejoiced, the adults laughed at their antics, even Bilbo played in the snow though he thought himself a bit too old for that (but truly he was not)._

_After some time the snow didn’t stop falling, it got so high that the fields got completely covered and the farmers lost their hope for that season’s harvest, they still had other sources of food so they didn't worry, the hunters were many among the Shire and hobbits were not known for complaining._

_The gentle falling snow turned into a snowstorm and the snowstorm into an unmerciful blizzard, the animals around the Shire got sparser, and then the wolves came, eating away any and all prey the hobbits used to hunt, running away against the slashing winds at first sight of their feathery enemies, preventing the harpies from hunting them in the place of their stolen prey. The Shire’s winter stock rapidly depleted, even with the rationing and no one was able to fly in such cold and strong winds, the cold freezing their feathers and the wind robbing their breath, some tried to reach out the Rangers, crawling through the snow in their feral forms, but no harpy came back, nor did any help, not until too late._

_As if the famine and the cold weren’t enough, the orcs came._

_A whole pack, mounted in wargs and even a mountain troll in their ranks, the hobbits didn’t see them coming, camouflaged by the blinding storm, half frozen, but still filled with bloodlust and worse, hunger. They attacked at night, their approach silenced by the howling winds and the soft snow that covered the ground, the door of the tree-houses now easily at reach by the sheer amount of snow and ice that covered the land, unprepared and surprised, chaos and death reigned before they could counter-attack._

_When they did though, the orcs remembered why harpies were feared and revered with such awe by the free people in the long forgotten past._

_The whole Shire went feral, some more controlled, others lost and blind by the rage and grief of losing a loved one to such filthy and corrupted creatures, and by Manwë how many were lost that day._

_His mother didn’t fall in that first attack, when a group of orcs broke in their house she was quick to act and in the blink of an eye a coppery red feral beast was facing five enemies, Bungo transformed as well, black feather’s turned the color of dark steel, but he used his body and wings to protect Bilbo while his wife mauled the orcs that dared to invade their home._

_More came, and even more fiercely she fought, their enemies didn’t have a chance against her, not in her house. Then they heard it, the piercing terrified cry of a harpy child, one screamed out of fear and out of pain, the sound resonating in the entire Shire, vibrating in their very bones, penetrating their souls._

_And then his mother was gone, out of their home and into the slashing winds. Everything was a blur for Bilbo after that, screams, cries, the sound of metal and the scent of blood so strong that he could taste it... and then, then came silence._

_He found himself half hidden behind a flipped table, his father covered with black and red blood, his and from the enemies that tried to touch his son, red bewildered eyes looked at him, worry and fear winning the battle against the rage that drove the black feathered harpy until that moment changing the bloody red of his eyes to their normal dark green, he hurried besides Bilbo and hugged him something fierce, taking his breath away and reassuring him at the same time, tears escaped the small harpy and with them the shock of what happened finally sinking in._

 

╳╳ Chapter 1: Seeking refuge. ╳╳

 

Ori’s stomach was in knots, he was worried sick and there was nothing he could do.

Thorin was almost as white as Bilbo’s complexion, carrying their harpy friend with such care and gentleness he never thought possible of their normally sullen king. The company was silent aside from the sound of their steps and a heavy atmosphere was hanging in the air, despite Gandalf’s words.

“He is not in danger.” The wizard said to the distressed dwarves as soon as Bilbo fainted again, and they _were_ distressed since no one commented anything about the kiss their burglar gave their king before fainting. “His body is tired and needs all his energy to recover, I know a place where we can rest and wait for Bilbo to wake up.”

And just like that they followed the gray wizard without uttering a word, something rare considering Thorin haven’t asked even who or where to Gandalf was leading them, at that moment though Ori didn’t think anyone cared, they were tired and worried sick, wherever they were going was bound to be better than staying where they were, at least he hoped.

 

╳╳╳

 

Óin never felt so helpless before. Nor so determined to help someone as in that moment.

When Bilbo fainted in Thorin’s arms (after kissing their king with a fierceness of a dead man walking - if not by fainting after that Óin could have snorted at his bird friend antics) he did his best with the scarce things he had within his person to fix the poor lad, but since he lost almost everything at that damned goblin city there was little that could be done, he fervently hoped their next host had something akin to first-aid supplies or else Óin would scourge the wildlands in search of herbs and supplies to make his concoctions if necessary.

He would not let Bilbo suffer, he was the damned healer for Mahal’s sake!

 

╳╳╳

 

Gandalf was silent while leading his party of dwarves through the Carrock, the path wasn’t an easy one, even worse for smaller people, but he didn’t hear a single complain from his companions, he could feel their worry and was sympathetic, for he himself was feeling as much as them.

Bilbo was stable for now, harpy bodies were a sturdy sort, but he could also feel a lingering magic within his small friend, old and familiar in a terrible sort of way, it was not dark magic per se, but something used only by hobbits and other were-creatures, magic not borne from a person, but from a potion, worse yet was that such thing was preventing Bilbo normal fast healing body to heal itself with his innate magic. This was worrisome though, for without it the chance for infection was much greater than normal and by the state of Bilbo’s wings the wizard wasn't so sure it didn’t start to get infected already.

The Gray Pilgrim sighed heavily and looked away from the still form of his little friend, he did all he could do with his power to help Bilbo, now they needed to reach Beorn, he prayed the Valar the Skinchanger would not turn them away.

 

╳╳╳

 

The Company walked for what seemed hours before finally reaching the end of the Carrock and had a change on the scenery, they passed through beautiful fields and green woods, but little did they notice its beauty, for their hearts were heavy with the burden of a wounded friend and maybe because of the stress of their last battle piled up together with their current predicament they haven’t noticed the eyes that followed their every step.


	2. Chapter 2

╳╳ Chapter 2: Beorn's Halls ╳╳

 

_The Fell Winter was over, but with it was as well many lives in the Shire._

_At least a dozen people died, most of them children that couldn't transform yet and was attacked before an adult could save them, Bilbo's mother, Belladonna, was hailed a hero, she singlehanded defeated the troll and the orc leader and its warg, all of that while protecting a little toddler that was dragged away from the safety of his home._

_But the wounds she received weren't little, she was repeatedly whacked in the head by the troll's gigantic spiked club and despite surviving enough to end the foul creature and some more, at the break of dawn she didn't resist, dying in the arms of her husband, while Bilbo held her hand in a desperate attempt to keep her with them._

_“Live happily my child.” And with those last words, she left the land of the living._

 

╳╳╳

 

When Thorin and the others arrived at their destination he was surprised at being greeted by the biggest Man he had ever encountered.

Gandalf was the one to do most of the talking, thankfully the sight of their injured hobbit seemed to mollify the giant's heart, for only after a few exchanged words they were being ushered inside his home.

His name was Beorn it seemed and his home was a most peculiar thing, but Thorin didn't dwell on such thoughts though, his mind was focused solely on the harpy in his arms.

Bilbo was placed in a soft (enormous) bed and together with Óin, Beorn cleaned Bilbo's wounds with a swiftness not expected of his wide frame. His head received three stitches and was cleaned and bandaged, some feathers had to be plucked (Óin said they would grow within a month), but the head wound wasn't the worst. The bones of his wing had to be rearranged back in place (and Thorin was grateful Bilbo was unconscious for that) or else they could heal wrongly, after the cringe-worthy process his wing was expertly put in a splint made of some fine wood Beorn gave Óin and strapped in clean linen, the other injuries were external ones, scrapes, scratches and a few cuts that were also treated.

At the end of the day, Bilbo was still unconscious, but his wing was looking much better than the broken mess that it was before, even his face wasn't so pale anymore and his breathing had finally evened.

Thorin let out a sigh of relief, silently thanking Mahal for small mercies, he didn't know what he would do if their burglar didn't show signs of recovery, no matter how little they were.

 _Burglar indeed._ Thought Thorin feeling slightly better. _Robbing my breath, then my heart, then my breath again._

Before he could lose himself in thoughts he was dragged by Óin and forcefully treated as well, for his surprise he also had to stitch the cut on his face, but aside from that, he was better than most. Thorin sighed, he knew duty was calling for him, he had to talk to their host together with Gandalf, explain their situation, request shelter and more, but at that moment all he wanted was to stay at Bilbo's side.

Life was not kind, Thorin knew.

 

╳╳╳

 

The last time Beorn had seen a harpy had been centuries ago, way before he himself has settled in his actual home and by what he had heard of the elves and man they kind have also settled like his own, leaving the war and bloodshed behind.

Skin-changers and harpies have always been close, sharing a bloody past and a mutual decision to leave it behind, that's why he didn't think twice when the old looking wizard asked for shelter.

While tending to the harpy in his bed he noticed the small thing was not a child, but he could tell it wasn't too old either, despite his injuries if he didn't force his wing after waking up, he would heal just fine in a month or two.

His companions were less pleasant though, Beorn dislike of dwarves was an old thing, born from many meetings with the greedy little things, yet, despite his animosity towards them, no one could say he wasn't a good host, so as such he behaved, they barely arrived for him to be able to judge them yet.

His foremost worry though wasn't the group of dwarves in his home, in the end, they weren't at fault for being born as such and these ones so far seemed better than most he crossed paths with, his mind was in how a harpy got so badly injured, their folk was known to be hardy and almost undefeatable in battle, how in Mordor did he got this way was hard to imagine.

And it was lost in such thoughts that he finished patching up the little fierce thing, the healer dwarf proving himself useful and able to listen to his instructions without making a fuss for his surprise.

After leaving the hobbit resting in his bed he went to the others, all wearing different kinds of worried expressions, which gained them points in Beorn's opinion, they cared for the harpy and that was always good to show a person's character.

“Come with me.” He said to the dwarves and man.

They followed him in hushed whispers, something rare for their kind, normally loud and hard-headed, not that he was complaining, but he could see how tense they were.

“Now, explain to me what happened.” He said, not asked, they were in his home and he had the right to know.

 

╳╳╳

 

At the end of their tale, Fíli saw their host's disbelieving expression and despite slightly offended he could understand how unbelievable it all sounded. The Company was silent and only Thorin and Gandalf had spoken, a heavy atmosphere permeating the air.

Until Kíli's stomach screamed like a dying warg for his utter embarrassment, Fíli couldn't resist chuckling despite everything.

“That's a mighty roar!” Glóin said laughing, it was still somewhat constricted, but it was all that needed to break some of the tension.

“I- I'm sorry-” His brother stuttered, getting redder and redder, but even Beorn chuckled and got up.

“No need to apologize, young one.” The giant of a man said with a gentler expression. “You all might be hungry and tired I suppose, I'll serve you all dinner and you can rest, tomorrow we talk about such grievous matters.”

Then their host disappeared for almost ten minutes only to return with a bunch of animals such as sheeps, ponies and even a dog carrying trays of food to the table for the bafflement of the dwarves and the amusement of one wizard.

While the food lacked meat Fíli couldn't say it wasn't sustainable or delicious, they ate until their stomachs were completely filled and at the end, he was feeling full and sleepy. They were directed to a big room where they unrolled their bags and prepared to sleep, grateful at least to be able to have one night where they could feel safe.

Despite his tired and sore body when Fíli tried to close his eyes, sleep was the last thing in his mind, all that resided in him that night was his worried restless thoughts.

The young prince was worried about many things, Bilbo’s condition the first of many worries. The sight of their gentle (and paradoxically fierce) feathery friend bloody and unconscious was a vision that will haunt his dreams for awhile… and then his uncle… Kíli have commented since the very first day that Bilbo joined the Company how smitten Thorin was with Bilbo, but Fíli dismissed it as another of his brother's jokes.

Well, everything is clearer in hindsight.

The way his uncle avoided Bilbo at first, how they caught him staring at their harpy friend when he thought no one was looking and even more obviously how Thorin worried about him, most people couldn’t see beyond their uncle hard exterior how caring he was, his family though, could and it was glaringly obvious now that Thorin was in love with Bilbo.

Fíli sighed and opened his eyes, looking at the faintly lit ceiling of the room and hearing the snores of the Company. He would love to have Bilbo as his uncle, that was not the problem, the problem was that at the end of their journey there was a dragon, how on Arda would Bilbo defeat such a beast? And Fíli wasn’t so optimistic to think the dragon was dead, such thoughts, in his opinion was just wishful thinking.

He closed his eyes again and turned over, his brother was beside him curled up in a ball and moving in a fitful sleep, he touched his brother’s arm and Kíli seemed to relax a little, he closed his eyes again, he had to sleep, so try to sleep he did.

 

╳╳╳

 

Beorn had warned the Company to not get out that night, assuring them they would be safe in his home as long as they _stayed there_. If not by the wicked gleam in their host’s eyes Dwalin would be tempted to disobey and go out to smoke some pipe to calm his nerves, but decided against it, so all he could do was lay in his bed, eyes open and brown furrowed in thought, he was so deep in them that he almost got out of his skin when someone whispered right in his right ear.

“Can’t sleep?”

 _Damn!_ Dwalin almost shouted, but years of training helped him keep himself still despite stiff like a rod.

He heard a chuckle and the next second the thief was sitting by his side, silent and hidden by the shadows of the room, but undoubtedly Nori.

“What do you want?” He said in a low gruff, only enough to be heard by his suspicious companion.

“Nothing in particular.” Nori said with a shadow of a smile. “I’m just checking, really.” He said waving his hand in a slow gesture towards the Company. “After our tour on the goblin city, many can’t sleep.” His smile was gone, replaced by worry lines on his face.

Dwalin didn’t hate Nori, never did actually, but he have been a troublesome individual in the Blue Mountains, always slipping away from the guards and a thief by profession, so it was normal for the Head Captain to be wary of people like him or even suspicious when he volunteered to be part of such important and dangerous mission… but after traveling with him for these last few months his opinion was changing as was his view of him.

Despite his less than honorable profession, for a thief, Nori didn’t lack in courage much less a caring heart.

“I’m fine.” Dwalin said in a rough imitation of a whisper. “Are you?”

Nori looked at him in surprise despite his shadowed expression and then his small smile was back.

“I’m stronger than I look.” He said in a low purring voice and with that the thief was gone, leaving a bewildered Dwalin behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, another chapter finally! I'm sorry it took a week to post despite being already written, but time is a fickle thing and also HATES ME. -_-
> 
> Anyway, more are to come! I'm still undecided about the relationship of Dwalin/Nori, friendship or romance? What do you guys think? I will _probably_ lean to romance, but I'm still undecided, hope you all enjoy it! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

╳╳ Chapter 3: Reflections in the Night ╳╳

 

Thorin left his Company rest for the night and went on to where Bilbo was sleeping, he took the closest stool and sat by his side taking the small hands of his One on his own, they looked so fragile for such dangerous things, petite fingers covered in an almost invisible layer of fur-like feathers, golden even through the dim light of the room, his nails almost dwarven-like if not by the small pointy tips.

Now that some hours have passed the bruises and swelling were more visible and Thorin’s heart ached, seeing Bilbo unconscious and battered like that was like a trial on his strength… and to think that much more was to come, so much.

Thorin breathed deeply and put Bilbo’s hand back on the bed, rummaging through his pocket and picking two beautifully crafted shiny beads, he took one in his hand and caressed it with a wistful expression, he closed his eyes for a moment, memories flooding his mind against his will.

 

_“Thor! THOR!” Frerin jumped on him when not even his shouting would rouse his sleeping brother._

_“Woof!” Was all Thorin managed to say when attacked by the little imp. “You-”_

_“Come on!” And out of reach he was again. “It’s your birthday!!”_

“I know that’s why I want to sleep.” Thorin looked out of his window and sighed, yes, it was _midnight. “You know I have been born at noon right? So technically it’s not yet.”_

_“Irrelevant!” His young brother sniffed as if offended. “Now wake up, Dís and I have a present for you!”_

_Despite his sleepy mind, Thorin obeyed, he knew that there was nothing in the world that could stop his brother when he wanted something, so that’s how he found himself in Frerin’s room with a sleepy but smiling Dís at their wait._

_“Happy birthday brother!” She said jumping from the bed she was sitting and hugging him something fierce, only to let go and be replaced by an even stronger hug from his brother._

_“Broken bones are my present?” He said between a chuckle and both siblings seemed affronted, which only made him laugh more._

_“Now, now dear brother, sit down.” Dís said taking him to the chair next to the hearth._

_“You better sit, because I’m sure you’ll lose it when you see what it is!” Frerin said enthusiastically and Thorin rolled his eyes despite the smile tugging on his lips._

_He sat obediently and waited while the two little rascals he had as siblings looked inside of a small chest in Frerin’s bed foot._

_“Aha!” Dís found it and they wrestled a bit to see which one would bring him the present, Dís won, of course, which made Frerin pout like a dwarfling and Thorin shake his head in amusement. When they reached Thorin though gone was Frerin’s pout and they were both smiling brightly at him._

_Frerin took Thorin’s hand and turned it Dís dropping the small bag on his palm, they stepped back and waited with contained anticipation, almost vibrating in place._

_The bag was simple, fine silk, of course, but nothing remarkable which only added to his curiosity, the little thing was adorned with a simplified crest of the Durin line and nothing more. He looked at his siblings with curious eyes and saw how they were expectant, which only added to his amusement._

_“Open it!” Frerin couldn’t contain himself which only made Thorin chuckle and Dís punch their middle brother in the arm._

_“Shush! Let him have his moment you overgrown dwarfling!” Dís reproached him._

_Not wanting to make his little brother combust Thorin started to open the little bag hearing the little tinkling it made when he moved it, when the bag fell open in his palm his brain malfunctioned for a second before looking back astonished at his brother and sister._

_“How in Mahal’s name…” He started, but his sister cheeky smile said everything. “How did you?” He asked still in a daze._

_“Hey, it wasn’t just her!_ I _helped to convince father as well!” Frerin said stuffing his chest in mock indignation._

_“Those beads are one of our kingdom’s most highly esteemed treasure, I can’t-”_

_“You can and you will.” His sister said with a tone worthy of the princess she was and with the finality of a queen. “We wanted to give you something special brother, something as grand as our love for you.” Her smile was gentle and Frerin was by her side with a twin expression._

_“To be fair convincing father wasn’t that hard.” His brother said with a smile. “He was planning to give them for you when you found your One, but I and Dís thought it would be a fitting present for your 30th birthday!”_

_“You're finally considered an adult!” Dís said with a wicked smile. “Not that you look like one with that queasy little beard!”_

_“Hey!” Thorin said actually offended. “You know our beards actually start growing when we’re 40.”_

_“Keep saying that to yourself brother!” Frerin said laughing and Thorin couldn't resist and ended up laughing together with them._

_He looked at the perfectly crafted beads, shiny beautiful things made of mithril, the Durins crest on the back and Erebor on the front with a diamond at the peak all surrounded by small yet detailed geometric designs, it was not considered a Kingdom's treasure just for the sake of it, it was an unrivaled work of art and the fact that was ancient and crafted by a famous and long dead jewelsmith only added to it._

_Thorin smiled warmly to the two dwarves in front of him, getting up of the chair he was sitting in a jump and crushing them in an unexpected bear hug, the two little earthquakes that were his siblings laughing in delight._

 

The memory faded away, his heart a mix of melancholy and sadness, it was rare for him to remember the good things, he had a happy life before the fire, but on the ongoing list of tragedies that befell his family and people, it was easy to engulf oneself in misery and hate. Seeing Bilbo unconscious on that bed seemed like a bitter reminder of how easy good things can be taken away from you.

He would not commit the same mistake.

He squeezed the beads in his hand and with that steeled his resolve, after Bilbo’s recovery he would formally ask to court him, it was time to honor his brother’s memory and his siblings will.

 

╳╳╳

 

Beorn’s night has been bloody, normally he _wasn’t_ a violent person, but when it came to the filth of Morgoth he didn’t try to suppress his nature, he, like the great eagles, like the harpies were created to fight them, it was engraved in his blood, written in his soul and that’s how he ended up caked in goblin, orc and warg blood in the morrow.

Looking around at the blood and gore around him, his beast retreating to the back of his mind after the massacre, because no matter how one saw it, that was what it was, he gave a tired sigh, he had a lot of work to do, first burn all the bodies but one, second, think a way to best empale one of the bodies for a good old warning stick or maybe hung it on a tree, you never know which one will be more aesthetically terrifying.

Nothing like Orc on a stick to pass away the message to the smelly bastards.

Little did Beorn know that he wiped out a party of orcs that were observing the dwarves for a good while, consequentially giving them some more time.

 

╳╳╳

 

Óin woke up with sore muscles and a terrible cramp in his back, but he knew better than to complain, despite his pains his sleep has been way better than any he can remember after leaving Rivendell and if that wasn’t a gift he didn’t know what it was.

The healer woke up very early, before everyone except Thorin that wasn’t even there, Óin had his suspicions confirmed when he went to where Bilbo’s was resting to check on the lad, finding a sleeping king by the harpy’s side, Óin could only imagine how bad _Thorin’s back_  would be considering his cousin slept on a _stool_.

“Thorin.” He said in a low voice and barely hearing it himself, despite that Thorin woke up with a start almost pulling his blade after practically jumping back, when his eyes focused on Óin he let out a relieved sigh.

“Do you want to scare me to death?” The king asked, but there was no venom on his voice, only tiredness.

“Go to sleep Thorin, I’ll take care of Bilbo.”

The dark-haired dwarf looked back at the bed where the golden harpy was resting, closing the distance in a single step he squeezed Bilbo’s hand for a brief second before letting go and with a firm nod to the healer, he left the room.

Óin could sympathize with his king, he himself had found his One only after Smaug’s attack, for his utter despair and heartbreak she was one of the heavily injured survivors, one of the many that lived only a few weeks until succumbing to the fever and infection caused by the Dragonfire.

For Thorin meeting Bilbo was probably as much as a blessing as it was a curse, for he was the one that set his own Soulmate, as Bilbo would call them, to a suicidal mission, Óin sighed in resignation.

 _What a wicked thing is Fate._ Óin thought before starting to rummage through the small kit of bandages and ointments Beorn left in the room.

 

╳╳╳

 

Bilbo’s mind was a heavy clouded thing, hazy and nonsensical all he knew at that moment with certainty was the _pain_. Despite unaware of his surroundings and deaf to any sound, Bilbo was very aware of his own body. His head was pounding as if Aüle himself was using his head like an anvil to craft his newest weapon, his hand, arm, and the whole wing was on fire as if he dipped it on Mount Doom’s lava just for the sake of it. Those were the worse ones, but there was more, much more, his whole body was a complexion of small pains throbbing with the beating of his heart, and those were the ones almost driving him crazy.

Yet, despite all that, through the fog and the mist and the unbearable pain he could feel _something_ by his side, _someone_ , like the gentle caressing of the wind on his wings on a sunny day, the kiss of the breeze on windy nights, like the whispers in the clouds, like the charge before the storms.

It was a presence as gentle as it was strong, but never, ever harmful. Whoever was there was his beacon in the darkness, the wind current keeping him high in the skies, his pillar, his strength and it was thanks to that constant that Bilbo was able to finally drift away from his little world of pain and despair and let himself be dragged away to the realms of Lórien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! To make up for the lost time I posted TWO chapters in less than 24h, I'm impressed with myself haha!


	4. Chapter 4

╳╳ Chapter 4: Undead Aberrations ╳╳

 

Dreams and memories tended to mix around Bilbo’s mind as one thing when he was trapped in a state of unconsciousness that was not caused by normal sleep and currently he was trapped in one of those moments, in between glimpses of nothingness and jolts of pain the memories swirled and crashed within his head like the lashing winds of a hurricane, uncaring of his state of mind.

_“Dad, dad no!” Bilbo’s voice was a raspy weak thing, he was tired, his heart still freshly bleeding his mother loss, cut, shredded by grief, but at that moment his wellbeing was the last of his worries, his father was even worse, if that was even possible, and he needed him, he needed him now. “Please, da, please stop!”_

_The dark harpy in front of him was stronger, of course, he was even if he was just a shadow of what he has been, now only feathers and bones, Bilbo, despite doing his best to eat the seven meals required of his kin was barely a teenager. Even so, despite all that, when Bilbo took his father’s hands away from his bruised clawed face he let him, dropping his bloodied hands to his sides, his disheveled form going from frantic to almost limp, not moving when his son wrapped his arms around him and started to sob on his shoulder, desperate that maybe his tears could reach his now - literally - bleeding father somehow._

_He was losing him just like he lost his mother, but somehow this was even_ worse _because no matter how much he tried to reach him, no matter how much Bilbo tried, deep down he knew there was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do… and that only shattered him more._

_Slowly two too thin wings wrapped around him and for a second Bilbo couldn’t believe himself._

_“I’m sorry…” The broken whisper brought more tears to Bilbo’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to care if his father was talking with him or just lost in the delirious grief he was suffering the last months, he needed him as much as his father needed Bilbo at that moment. “I’m sorry son…”_

_And that was it, Bilbo could almost hear something break inside of him and all he could do was hug his father even more desperately and sob even harder as if the world was ending somehow, which for Bilbo wasn’t too far from it._

A wave of nausea washed over the golden harpy and Bilbo’s world tilted, hit by a strong wave of vertigo crashing at his very being all at once, his surroundings swirled and in the blink of an eye his mind was clear, a memory, that was just a memory, nothing more, nothing less. And just like that the room and his father were gone, dissolved like a cold breath in winter days and for his surprise the next minute he was on his mother’s lap, it took him a second to understand what was happening - _another memory,_ he thought. He was holding an old looking book on his small hands that stretched to soft looking wings, still too young for his golden feathers to take shape, but already gaining his mother’s golden hue. His mind focused on it in tunnel vision, nothing else mattered at that moment and he latched at it, becoming one with the memories once again.

_“This story is so sad.” He said to his mother, pouting as if it was her fault for such a sad ending, not the author. “I don’t like it!”_

_Belladonna chuckled and hugged her lovely chick. “It’s not just a story love.” She knew Bilbo was still quite young, but she never failed to teach him when he didn’t understood something, even if it sounded a bit mature for a hobbitling such as him, despite what others in the Shire thought, Bilbo was actually very mature for such a young child, his son had to be prepared to face the world, so teach him she did, never sugarcoating her lessons. “This is what happens with our kind when we lose our partners dear, that’s why it’s called_ Soul _mates.”_

_Bilbo’s forest green eyes were wide when he looked at his mother which only made her chuckle once more._

_“But- but it says she lost her soul!” The young harpy almost shrieked in his distress, staring back at the book with a frown in his little face._

_“Well, she didn’t_ lose _her soul exactly, it’s more like her soul just left her body to meet with her beloved." Belladonna said with a soothing voice, but it didn’t seem to work because her son looked at her with confusion all written over his face._

_“I don’t understand mom!” He said with his little wings in the air in a sign of frustration._

_“Let me tell you another story then my love.” She said smoothing the small feathers in his head that got up with his distress. “When Ûrî, our beloved Adan mother, died from her wounds in the battle against Morgoth’s Army, still young and robbed of the many years she still had to live, Amontaur, the youngest of Thorondor’s children, was so devastated that he refused to turn back into an eagle, wasting away in sorrow and trapped by his own will in the form of the Adan his beloved fell in love with. The Merciful Nienna taking pity of the poor Maia and impressed by Ûrî’s courage and sacrifice in battle, brought back his beloved from the halls of Mandos giving them another chance to be together. To prevent them from being parted from each other again she granted the lovers a gift, their souls forever entwined into each other, true halves of a whole, one following the other when their time was due. Grateful beyond words they happily accepted her gift, unknowingly even to the great Vala, Nienna has blessed not only the couple but their very bloodline, destining the entirety of their descendants to the same fate.”_

_Belladonna smiled at her son, despite the many tragic endings having a Soulmate could and have brought to many of her kin, this was still one of the aspects of her kind that she loved the most._

_She got one of the cookies besides them and gave one to her now thoughtful son that munched on it absently, proving how seriously he was thinking about what she had told him, still wearing a little frown on his young face. “When one of us die, love, we can’t be apart from each other, that’s why our soul leaves our bodies to be with our Soulmates, no matter what. To some, this can be seen as a blessing, for others, a curse…” The female golden harpy sighed and kissed her son’s brown. “The ordeal of a soul leaving its body isn’t… beautiful, it’s sad and heartbreaking I admit, but in the end... in the end, the lovers will always, always be together.” There was sadness in Belladonna's eyes, but also fire._

_Bilbo pouted and squinted suspiciously at his mother. “I_ still _don’t understand.”_

_His mother laughed getting up from the armchair they were sitting and swirled him in the air, that was followed by a squeal than a cute imitation of a glare that didn’t scare even a sparrow from her son, that, not so surprisingly, didn’t let anything pass._

_“Why do some people not die then? Why their bodies keep… walking?” He tried to think of a fitting word when his mother put him back on the floor after a chuckle._

_“Roaming?” She offered._

_“Yes! Roaming!” He said eagerly nodding his little blond head and making the fluffy curls of his head bounce._

_“Well, that’s a story for another day love, now we make dinner!” And with a squee of delight, the little hobbitling let go of any other thoughts about Soulmates and their ambiguous fate, nothing like food to make him go back to the little toddler that he was, not the serious little scholar that sometimes graced her with his presence._

_The kitchen was bright, very bright, blindingly bright._

With an all-consuming flash of light, the memory faded drowning Bilbo back to silent nothingness.

 

╳╳╳

 

Beorn’s home was… unique. The place itself wasn’t that exceptional, a big house with an enormous hall, but what made it special was the  _animals_. The house was attached to a barn where many animals lived, all of them treated with care and their space well maintained by their host, also the animals could _understand_ them and as if that wasn’t bizarre enough they were the ones that served food and helped Beorn around, even tending to the Dwarves if they needed something, it baffled the Dwarves and Ori to no end and made him rethink his dietary habits to a worrying degree.

If all animals can think like us what are we doing killing a _nd torturing them and then eating their flesh!?_ He thought in horror. _Ok, maybe torturing is a bit too much, but still!_ Deep down Ori registered the hypocrisy of his thoughts and this only made him feel even worse, even if they all _didn’t_ think like Dwarves or understood them it was still cruel and only now his eyes were open to such reality, Ori never thought in his life he would ever consider turning into a vegetarian. Beorn’s animals made him understand the elves diet much more and this was horrifying in a whole other way.

Maybe his brain was overthinking it to avoid other more worrisome topics such as barely surviving a fight between Rock Gigants, then their unwilling visit at the Goblin Town to _then_ be hunted down by orcs and oh, _Azog the Defiler was_ alive _and_ hunting _them and Mahal Balls’ we’re all going to d- right, stop brain, stop right now._

Ori sighed, his thoughts a complete opposite of his surroundings, well, almost. The scenery in front of him was beautiful, green soft looking grass, multicolored flowers, ancient looking trees and that was just the front garden. This quest was proving to be something very different than he imagined. The day was high in the sky and gigantic bees were flying through the flowers, small birds singing, a refreshing breeze blowing, Fíli and Kíli training a few meters from him and beauty all over them… if not by the dead warg and orc’s head impaled as a macabre show on the entrance the sight would be almost heavenly, now it was just bizarre, as everything else in that place, Ori was tempted to call the place exoctic, maybe it was less offensive than ‘bizarrely beautiful’?

They were going to stay there until Bilbo was recovered and that would certainly take some days, maybe even a month, but Thorin didn’t seem upset by it like Ori thought he would be, rather, from all of them, he seemed the most affected by Bilbo’s condition. Not that Ori or the others didn’t care for their hobbit friend, far from it, but for Thorin was almost as if he was the injured one, their king was strong and tried his best to not show it on his face, but the blow have been heavy and even if he was a king, Thorin was still just one dwarf, one dwarf with his intended gravely injured.

Ori thought for a moment if he would ever find his One and this only made him sigh again, at this point one of his brothers would end up hearing his endless sighs and _that_ would be a nightmare even more if he tell them his current thoughts, what he always ended up spilling when they brothers forced him to say, he meant, asked.

Find their One wasn’t so common as people made it, some dwarrow dying before they could find their other half, rarer still was those that could find their Ones in different races, it wasn’t unheard of, but still not common. Ori was just glad Bilbo was an harpy, even if others tried to question about the legitimacy of their relationship they couldn’t complain about he being weak or short lived, as happened in some cases a dwarf found their pairs in Men, Mahal forbid if one ever find his other half in an Elf. Ori shuddered at the thought.

Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he took his notebook and charcoal from his bag placing them in his lap and observing what he wanted to draw, the bees seemed like as a good choice as any other, so without thinking too deeply about it he started to draw, his mind entering a peaceful blank state filled only with the movements of his hand and fingers and the path of the charcoal on the paper.

At the end of this journey, if he survive it and everything end up well, Ori really wanted to work with his craft. Writing and drawing were his passion since he could hold a quill and that was why he was putting so much effort documenting their journey, his book was filled with drawings of what happened so far, each person of the Company drawn in a page, even Gandalf and with it small details of their person, family line and some more, it was a throughout work that he was proud of.

 _If I die in the end be it in battle or by dragonfire I wish at least this book can survive._ He thought with startling clarity when he finished, it was not a sad or pitiful thought, just a true wish. The drawing was as detailed as he could make in such a limited piece of paper and in the page next to it he wrote about the peculiarities of their host and his home, he closed it with a final click after he finished, falling again in an endless loop of worries and correlated thoughts, now Bilbo on the forefront of them.

 _Mahal… Manwë..._ He prayed silently to his and Bilbo’s maker. _Watch over us on this journey._

 

╳╳╳

 

Three days have passed when Bilbo finally showed signs of waking up for the whole Company’s relief, he was looking better each passing day despite the purple and yellow bruises, but his unconsciousness was making the worry that faded the first day after he was cared come back with a vengeance. Gandalf and even Beorn said to the Company that it was normal for harpies to stay unconscious until their bodies were recovered from the worst

“Can’t you see the swelling is gone?” The wizard said to them in the second day Bilbo was still unconscious. “They are stronger than most my friends, he will wake up, just give him time.”

But the words barely registered between the concerned group of dwarves, even when eating they stayed silent and that was one of the signs of how distressed they were.

“Worry not little ones! Harpies of old were known to be passed as dead by their enemies in the battlefields until waking up a few days later, scaring the lives out of whoever was wandering near! If I’m not wrong the orcs used to call them ‘Undead Aberrations’ in black speech.” Beorn said later the same day with disturbing enthusiasm, which this time was heard but received with a varied range of even more worried expressions to one or another glare, though the dwarves kept their mouths shut, avoiding any rude reply, the atmosphere as thick as before.

That was why the next day when the small harpy opened his eyes it was as if the weight of the world have been lifted from their shoulders. Thorin was the one by his side and despite exchanging just a few words to too soon slip away from the waking world it was enough to dispel the worst of the tension, even the king in exile breathing a little easier, his shoulders a little less tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few helpful translations, some taken directly of the LOTR wiki:
> 
> *Adan, singular for Edain = how Humans are called by the elves, mean literally Second People.  
> *Maia, singular for Maiar = Valar's children, more or less like lesser Valar (think about angels, but not exactly).  
> *Vala, singular for Valar = Arda's gods.
> 
> * About the harpy's origins - the Great Eagles in this fic are based on the earlier versions of Tolkien's legendarium where they were actually Maiar, like Gandalf, Saruman and the wizards sent to Middle Earth and in this fic specifically they can change their shapes to one of the free races (Man, Elf, Dwarf, Hobbit, etc), Amontaur choose the form of a Man, he's one OC by the way. :)
> 
> *Thorondor = The first Eagle King/Great Eagle
> 
> * Amontaur: Amon = Hill, Taur= King (in Sindarin) {I thought a fitting name for the 'father' of hobbit-harpies despite they living in trees in this fic}  
> * Ûrî: Sun (in Adunaic) {because reasons}
> 
> Nienna = Vala (Goddess) of Mercy
> 
> I'm no expert in Sindarin or Adunaic, I just do a lot of research, but if it's wrong/weird please give me a nudge. ;]
> 
> As a side note, the Hobbit's origin is not known by other people aside from their own kin in this fic, the common knowledge is that they are devotees of Manwë and Yavanna (because of their homes, I will write more about it as the story progress), so they don't know about Nienna or the other Valar involved in their origins.
> 
> And I'm Ori everytime I eat meat lol


	5. Chapter 5

╳╳ Chapter 5: Of Soulmates & Proposals ╳╳

 

Bilbo’s world came into view after a few tries blinking in the darkness, his slitted pupils expanding and adjusting to the low light, permitting him a clear vision of his surroundings. He was in a bed he noticed and despite in pain he was heavily bandaged, one of his wings even immobilized by a splint, so in danger he was not, at least he prayed.

His foggy confused mind remembered something vague Thorin told him earlier when he woke up, but his mind at the time was even worse than at that moment, he sighed. He hated being like that, the last time he felt so battered was when he was just a child.

 _Cursed potion._ He thought bitterly, but with it came the memory of the charge he was incumbent, given by the white harpy in the Misty Mountains and a chill ran down his spine, his eyes widening in recollection. With his good hand he fumbled through his pockets until finding it and his body sagged in relief, his clothes were still the same and he thanked Nienna for small mercies, the ring, such a foul thing was not something he wanted to carry, but between him and leaving it to some other equally foul creature to find was the same as condemning Middle Earth to a bitter end, so for now, he was obligated to stay with it… _Until I pass the burden to someone of my blood._ The thought was as unsettling as was scary, he didn’t want to be the one to pass on such burden, even more so to someone he was sure he would care, the family was family after all… hopefully, there were still many years to come until the moment for such thing was right and who knows, maybe Gandalf could find a better solution.

Bilbo groaned softly in his bed, moving slightly to change his position, his thoughts a mile per minute.

So many things were at stake, not only the home of the dwarves he now considered family, damn there was still the _dragon problem_ , but there was also now the added weight that he was in love and not with anyone, he was in love with a king! Bilbo was just one person, one harpy, no matter how older he was then his companions he didn’t felt ready for such tremendous responsibilities, he didn’t felt he was old enough to deal with so much things, so many important things, by Mordor, before coming to this adventure he was sure he was one of those few harpies without Soulmates and he was happy with it.

Not that he could blame anyone but himself and maybe Thorin a little… harpy Soulmates weren’t predestined like most people believed, Soulmates were born from the mutual affinity and affection by the two involved parties, of course, the feelings had to be undeniably strong to create a soulmate bond, it has to be love, deeply rooted into the potential Soulmates and once settled unchanging and unbreakable.

 _Maybe kissing Thorin haven’t been a good thing to do at such a delicate moment._ His traitorous mind whispered to him, the kiss was it, the final nail to settle their bond forever, not that it wasn’t strong before, but maybe if he tried hard enough… Bilbo chuckled into the silence, who he was kidding, he was head over tea kettle the moment he laid his eyes into his beautiful and grumpy dwarf king.

He shook his head to dispel his thoughts, he was still tired and he wasn’t going to regret his actions now, at the midst of battle against the orcs, between blood and flame and back to back with Thorin, it was in that moment when Bilbo finally realised how deep his feelings were and more, that such feelings weren’t just some silly infatuation, but something grander, stronger, something like what his mother used to tell him about when she spoke of his father. He was sure that if Thorin had died while fighting the pale orc Bilbo would have turned full feral even with the potion, he was sure that his soul would leave a mindless raging werecreature behind and follow his dwarf’s soul to the afterlife.

The thought was sobering, but also haunting in a way and it made him shudder, his father’s soulless eyes branded into his soul before leaving him behind, the memory now to the forefront of his mind.

Bilbo breathed deeply, he was safe now and that was all that mattered. He looked at the window in his room and saw that the day would take a few more hours to light its way, so he decided to sleep some more, he _was_ still tired, maybe after some more hours resting he wouldn’t feel so sore nor his mind so troubled.

 

╳╳╳

 

The following morning was met with great jubilation for Kíli and everyone at Beorn’s house! Bilbo had not only recovered enough to open his eyes, he was also feeling good enough to be sitting on the table talking with Beorn and Thorin when the rest of the dwarves woke up!

He and his brother almost jumped their golden friend only being stopped by his stern faced uncle.

“Bilbo!” His brother said with a grin that was threatening split his face, not that Kíli was too far behind.

“You are better already Mr. Boggins!” Kíli said enthusiastically almost throwing himself into the table and then a thought crossed his mind and his smile changed bordering on evil, Thorin’s eyes were glaring in his direction even before a word was said, not that glares ever helped. “Or maybe should I say… uncle Bilbo?”

Before running away laughing out loud like the inner dwarfling that he was he could see not only Bilbo turning into an impossible shade of red but also his uncle! The image would make him laugh for months to come and even if later he received a whack on the head from his uncle, well, it was still worth it.

The morning of the fourth day was one of merriment and the Company celebrated as only a dwarrow can do, with lots of ale and singing and dancing, despite all that everyone had been absolutely careful when dealing with Bilbo, no one wanted their harpy to get hurt again after all. Even Beorn joined them in their celebration _and_ the animals! The afternoon arrived with a bunch of drunk dwarves sprawled on the floor of Beorn’s house and a red faced smiling Bilbo.

From the journey so far Kíli was certain that was one of the best days they have had.

 

╳╳╳

 

The days following Bilbo’s awakening were slow and the highest action one could encounter was when the dwarves were training, despite it all, it was a well deserved rest for the whole Company, they harpy friend, Óin noticed, had a remarkable recovery, his head wound was almost healed and the scratches and cuts were already closed, the only problem was his wing, after waking up Bilbo noticed the bones were still slightly off and Óin and Beorn had to rebreake them _again_ to put it right, how the harpy haven’t screamed when they did it Óin didn’t know, he himself grunted in sympathetic pain, the sound thankfully unheard by him.

Thorin was a pile of nerves through the whole ordeal and even worse in his mothering of Bilbo after that, to be fair the lad was pale and almost fainting at the end, which Óin was actually surprised, many strong dwarf warriors fainted right away after the first bone was broken, their small harpy had a spine of mithril, this no one could contest.

 

╳╳╳

 

On the seventh day Bilbo’s wing got slightly better, the pulsating pain subsided and he was feeling less dizzy, rebreaking the bones of his wing had been as bad as when he broke them the first time around and for a moment he feared he would pass out, but then Thorin was there and things were better, the thought always making him flush slightly.

He was sitting in the veranda of Beorn’s house, the morning was sunny and the breeze warm and gentle, their host was a very kind person and Bilbo was surprised to know he was from the Skin-changers’ Tribe, he never had met one, but his mother used to tell him tales of others  were-creatures and his favorites have always been them.

Before getting lost in thoughts from his childhood once more a small hawk flew from the woods and the sight brought to his mind another worry. He truly hoped his flight would continue the same after his wing healed, he knew a few harpies in the Shire that had problems after breaking their wings for one reason or another, their control slightly off even years after the healing, his best bet was not turn feral for at least a month, the healing process when transformed was absurd, but at the same time the muscles and bones could heal even more wrong than at a normal rate… another question brought by this worry was, could he even transform yet? He didn’t know and by the way things were going he wouldn’t know for a while, hopefully they wouldn’t need him to transform through this period, Thorin and even Gandalf seemed determined to stay at Beorn’s for some more time and their host was kind enough to provide them food and shelter without asking anything in return knowing how little they were able to recover from their ill fated fall through the insides of the mountains, they would stay until at least his wing wasn’t painful anymore and he was grateful for it.

“Bilbo?” The voice that came behind him made Bilbo jump in his place and even before turning he knew it was Thorin that chuckled at his reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you feeling better?”

The dwarf king sat beside him, not too close, but closer than before the battle against the orcs… or _the kiss_. Bilbo tried his best not to blush, not that his best was anything near enough.

“I am, thank you.” At least his voice wasn’t cracking. “The pain is much better now, sometimes I almost don’t feel it thankfully.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Thorin said with such warm that Bilbo blushed even harder if that was even possible and did his best to find a blade of grass in front of him oh so very interesting. “Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice was still sweet, something that Bilbo never imagined to use to describe the dwarf king’s anything, but he could also hear an undertone of steel in it and it was that that made Bilbo look back at him, this time with a twinge of worry.

“Yes?”

“I know you have just got better and it’s been only a week since you woke up, but there’s something I would like to tell you.”

Bilbo felt a knot on his throat, but did his best to not show it, was Thorin maybe regretting his words? Sure they were on a dangerous quest, one that would end with a clash against a potential dragon, but still-

Thorin got up and kneeled in front of Bilbo halting any and every thought that was firing in his mind at that moment, the dark haired dwarf took Bilbo’s good hand on his and put in his palm something small and cold, closing it before Bilbo could see what it was.

“Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, son of Belladonna Baggins neé Took and Bungo Baggins” Thorin’s icy blue eyes were boring into Bilbo’s leafgreen and time itself seemed to slow down into that one moment. “Would you please accept the courtship of this exiled king? I may have not have a kingdom yet, but I promise you at the end of this journey I will and not only that.” There was a fire in his blue eyes and a determination that almost vibrated in the very air. “I promise you, my One, that I shall do everything to protect and care for you.”

Bilbo’s breath hitched  and his eyes were suspiciously wet, his mind was on a standstill, processing each word that have been said.

Was it really that simple? Could he accept?

“Yes.” He said before any other coherent thought could form in his mind. “Yes, I accept.”

The heartwarming smile he received from Thorin at that moment was something that he would never ever forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, sorry the delay guys, probably today or tomorrow another chapter will be posted, I was planning of posting much sooner but my life is a bit hectic lately, anyway thank you for your kudos, comments and evrything! I hope you all enjoy it! :)


	6. Chapter 6

╳╳ Chapter 6: The Calm Before the Storm ╳╳

 

Thorin and Bilbo’s Courtship came as a surprise to no one really.

Even Nori’s younger brother knew it was coming and between the three siblings, he was denser when faced with romantic situations, that said though, did not meant they didn’t have another reason to celebrate! Because of course they did! Nori never thought in his life he would see their stoic and surly king ever blush or even smile so genuinely before conquering back their home, but there Nori was, witnessing it! He was happy for them and so was every and each person on their party, even their host cheered and Nori had the suspicion Beorn wasn’t very fond of their kind, well at least he suspected it at the beginning of their stay, now he wasn’t so sure, no one could say he wasn’t perfectly polite though, that was for sure.

Nori was going out for a pipe after their celebration simmered down at evening when he spotted Dwalin. The older dwarf was like a puzzle to Nori and at the same time easy to understand, he was a noble and trustful person, loyal to a fault and fearsome in battle, Nori have always had a shaky relationship with the Captain in the Blue Mountains, his job to fault at it, but this quest proved to be a way to fix it, or at least it appeared, Dwalin wasn’t so hostile with him anymore and Nori was grateful, he never wanted to be a thief by profession, but there was little left for him to do in their old home.

“Hey there.” Nori said with a friendly tone, sitting down right beside Dwalin that acknowledged him with a grunt, but didn’t look at him, Nori followed the older Dwarf’s line of sight and saw the darkening sky, the sun was already down, but a few remaining rays still scaped dying the sky a bluish purple with few but visible streaks of red, the trees naught but silhouettes in the encroaching night. The view was magnificent and Nori, just like Dwalin was hypnotized by it, such image one that would be forever etched into his memory.

In a matter of minutes though, the sun rays were gone and the spell was broken leaving him feeling slightly disappointed, if he could just, freeze time and trap it somehow, memories seemed so frail sometimes.

“If we could do this we could all call ourselves wizards.” Dwalin said with a rough chuckle and Nori froze for a second trying to understand how the hell the older dwarf was reading his mind. “You were muttering.” He said after looking at Nori’s confused expression.

“Oh.” He said pathetically, he hasn’t done something like it in quite a long while… He apparently trusted Dwaling a lot, considering he started muttering his thoughts only around his family, the thought brought a smile to his face though. “It’s been a while since I have done that.” He said with a chuckle.

“The more I travel with you the more I wonder how you have been able to be a thief for so long.” Dwalin was looking back at the dark horizon, despite his words his tone wasn’t condemning, just curious.

“It wasn’t much a choice really.” Nori said, before processing his own words and shutting his mouth with a sonorous clack, Dwalin now was looking at him with a slight frown on his brows, his eyes boring so deep in Nori’s own that he started to feel as if he was naked.

 _Idiot! Idiot! Iiiiidiot!_ Nori silently cursed himself, it wasn’t that he wanted to go back to his life of crime after this journey, but damn! He had a reputation to keep and telling Dwalin of all people! No matter how close they were now or how nice Dwalin was treating him, that was still a big no-no! He got up hastily, his pipe untouched still, but he needed to… to... _run away_. His mind helpfully supplied.

“Sorry I- I gotta- Hm- Go, see you then!” And with it Nori was back at Beorn’s home, Dwalin thanks Mahal didn’t follow nor called Nori out. He didn’t need people to pity him more than he was already pitied, he didn’t need anyone besides his family to know how much he despised his poor joke of a job, much less how much he despised… himself as a result.

 

╳╳╳

 

A month passed in the blink of an eye and before long Beorn’s guests were ready and prepared to leave. He would be lying if he said they didn’t grow on him, for dwarves most of them may be, but they were polite and despite rowdy, they made his house more lively than it has been in many decades.

Bilbo, the only harpy in their group was his favorite still, a small brave thing, that for the skin-changer resembled more the harpies of old than any other he saw in the last centuries, despite the little thing denying it vehemently.

“I’m not doing this for the thrill of the fight or the bloodshed, I’m doing this to help them reclaim their home and that’s that.” Bilbo said a certain day when Beorn was talking to him and brought up the topic.

“This doesn’t change the fact that you are still leaving a trail of blood behind you while you travel.” Beorn said with a sharp smile that was all teeth, he was old, old enough to remember how thrilling it was when he let his beat roam free in the battlefield.

“This… is more like collateral. I am nothing like the harpies of old! I’m a decent hobbit, thank you very much.” His small friend said with a huff, fluffing his feathers slightly and looking anything but threatening, more like adorable really, Beorn was sure the only reason harpies had were-forms was that if not, no one would take them seriously in battle.

Beorn hasn’t insisted though, in a way Bilbo was right, after all, the harpies of old weren’t so selfless as his little friend, to go on a quest risking his life to reclaim a home that wasn’t even his. He was a very kind-hearted person, that was for sure.

 

╳╳╳

 

“Before saying farewell my friends I leave you with a few bits of advice.”

Their host said in a somewhat dark tone, making Bofur feel on edge already, after such a nice month returning to the road was met with a bit of trepidation by the miner.

“Do not drink or bath from any stream or river in the Mirkwood forest, the water is foul and the river carries a dark enchantment that will draw the person into a deep sleep, I provided you with enough water to the crossing, but ration still if you can, for your own safety if anything happens.”

His words were ominous, but he was not done.

“Always keep yourselves into the path, do not stray or this shall be your end. No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, _do not stray from the path_.”

Bofur gulped at his words, the idea of crossing Mirkwood already sitting ill in his stomach.

“And last, but not least! Send my ponies back to me after reaching the forest, I know your journey is long, but they belong to here, to this land and to me, that’s all I ask after aiding you all so much.”

The Company all nodded, nobody would want to cross the giant after everything he had done for them. The farewell was brief, everything being readied the day before, the ponies were stacked with food, the dwarves all packed with their bags (some new provided by their host) and belongings and the day was high in the sky and perfect for travel.

Everyone was well rested and fed, feeling renewed to this next step on their journey, Bilbo’s wing was much better to everyone’s relief, despite still in a sling, but his other wounds were all healed, just like everybody else in the Company, Bofur just prayed that their journey through Mirkwood would be less violent than the rest of their journey so far.

 

╳╳╳

 

The journey to the entrance of the forest was uneventful for everyone’s relief, no orcs behind them nor another monstrosity born from the pits of Mordor on their heels and Glóin was grateful.

The only bad news so far was that Tharkûn was leaving them and he, just like everyone else, was apprehensive with the idea of their one and only wizard leaving them - again. The last time the Gray Wizard left them they ended up between a fight against rock giants and a tour in a goblin-infested city, going into a forest named Mirkwood without him was not something Glóin was looking forward to.

The fire-haired warrior sighed while unpacking his poney, if they could at least bring the animals with them the crossing would be much easier, even if dwarves could carry a lot of weight without feeling tired it didn’t mean they didn’t use more energy to do so, because they did and that was replenished with food, which they would need to ration. Not to mention he was sure Thorin would want to travel faster to compensate the time they stayed at Beorn, Glóin knew it, even if their king never worded his worries, they were in a fight against time after all and everyone knew it.

“We could at least keep one or another to carry the food.” Glóin complained to Dwalin that was closer to him, but all he received as an answer was a grunt and a glare from Tharkûn that heard him even from a distance.

“You heard Beorn, do you want to have him as an enemy after everything he’s done to us?” The wizard said rispidly and Glóin just grunted in response, a perfect imitation of Dwalin, what made Balin chuckle on the other side.

Logically Glóin knew, of course he knew, but he still could complain, dammit.

 

╳╳╳

 

Bilbo approached the wizard while he gazed at the entrance of Mirkwood. “This forest looks sick, there’s no way around?” The harpy fidgeted with his bound wing, the idea of entering such a forest without being able to fly was a sickening thought.

“Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south.” The wizard answered truthfully to Bilbo’s dismay. “And time is of essence for you all.”

Bilbo sighed deeply, his good hand founding his pocket and then touching something cold, the remembrance of what it was making him freeze and widen his eyes. A month! An entire month and he forgot to tell Gandalf about the ring! _How in Mordor!_

 _Maybe the fact that I entered a courtship with the most handsome dwarf ever_ **_fried my brain_ ** _, but oh well._ He thought evening his breathing and touching his courtship bead instead, now neatly braided on his golden locks, one feather craftly hanging from it, Thorin had one of Bilbo’s golden feathers waved in his hair as well as a sign of not only Bilbo’s acceptance, but also his own proposal, the little bead was cold against his hand, but in a soothing kind of way.

“You’ve changed, Bilbo Baggins. You’re not the same Hobbit as the one who left the Shire.” Gandalf said with a kind smile. He was right, he was right in many ways.

“Gandalf.” The golden harpy said, feeling the heaviness of what he was going to tell the wizard all the more. “I was given something when I was in the inners of the mountain.”

The gray wizard was smiling before, but now he was looking at Bilbo with both brows up, a curious expression in his face.

Bilbo breathed again before any sound was formed though something deep within him made the harpy change the words that were to be spoken.

“A chance to ignite the fire dormant within my soul.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised another chapter, sorry the delay, more will come this week! (The last two were supposed to be the ones for last week x_x)


	7. Chapter 7

╳╳ Chapter 7: Between Eyes & Shadows ╳╳

 

Balin could hear Tharkûn talking with Thorin before his departure, the wizard stressing to his king not to enter the mountain without him, despite his words no one agreed nor make any promises of course, even if the wizard didn’t arrive in time they wouldn’t be able to wait, the wizened dwarf only prayed to their maker to bless theirs and Tharkûn’s path, hopefully, both their ways would be uneventful (despite doubting his own thoughts, he didn’t let himself be affected by it).

“I’ll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me.” Gandalf stops and looks hard at Thorin as he says this, continuing toward his horse. “This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray.”

Balin frowns and Bilbo’s question to his brother mirror his own. What does that even means?

It begins to rain lightly, even though the sun is out, a foreboding feeling washing over the white-haired dwarf, sometimes along this journey he could feel the years all the more and that was one of those days.

“Remember Beorn’s words, my friends, you must not stray. If you do, you will never find it again. You better commit this piece of advice to memory if you ever want to reach Erebor at all.”

The wizard wheeled his horse and rode away from the dejected party of thirteen dwarves and one harpy.

“No matter what may come, stay on the path!” And with these last words, Tharkûn is gone and with him some of their party’s optimism.

 

╳╳╳

 

Thorin looks at the dark and sickly looking forest and back to his lovely hobbit with an uneasy feeling and an apprehensive heart. Bilbo looking lovely with his courting bead braided on his blond hair. The golden feather in his own was a soothing reminder that his One wanted to be part of this courtship as much as him, yet, no matter how joyful he was by finally finding his other half, each and every step towards his lost home was also a closer step to the danger that awaited them within it. Thorin never thought he would feel so divided in this quest before realizing his feelings towards their Burglar, when he decided to reclaim their lost home and save his poor and starving people his determination was made of mithril, now it ashamed him to feel more like a leaf being thrown everywhere by the gales, he sighed and steeled his heart, his expression as neutral as always, no matter what. He was still a leader, a king even if his kingdom was lost to him (not for long, he hoped), he couldn’t let his personal feelings interfere with their quest, no matter how torn he felt regarding the safety of his beloved and above all, he had to trust Bilbo, his harpy was not weak by any means and if there was someone that could change the tides of battle, even against Smaug the Terrible, it was the once feared and feral harpies, Thorin believed every and each tale of their race after traveling with Bilbo for so long.

“Come on. We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin’s Day, this is our one and only chance to find the hidden door.” He said to his Company and to the forest they went, each dwarf and harpy praying silently to the Valar for a safe journey.

 

╳╳╳

 

A month passed in the blink of an eye and before Bilbo could notice it was already ending and deep into Mirkwood they were, time was hard to tell in such a horrible place, saying the forest was sick was more like a compliment, really. The thing was rotten in such a way that even the animals felt wicked, ghastly hideous little things, if Elrond hasn’t commented himself that elves lived in this forest in their short stay in Rivendell, Bilbo would have thought impossible and despite normally keeping his judgment neutral before meeting the inhabitants of such place, he could perceive another type of less friendly and way more aloof and colder elves living in such a place (as the dwarves loved to point out to him).

He, just like everyone, was starting to get cranky, the low luminosity was bad enough, but there was also the stale air, the putrid smell that most times permeated the path and the godawful bird-sized moths. He never thought he could hate an animal (or insect, for that matter) so much, it was not even funny. They couldn’t lit a fire because the dreadful things were attracted to the light and banded together around it obscuring the light (an eclipse of moths, a fitting name indeed) and making it impossible to cook anything on it without having a few thrown in.

The fact that Bilbo was restricted to the ground for almost two months now was also getting on his nerves, he knew he had to keep the sling for at least another month to be certain it was completely healed, but the idea was dreadful and irritating, the few first weeks almost rendered him insane with the itch of the new feathers growing, at least that was over. If he could just fly away from this darkness if only for a moment he would feel a hundred times better and who knows, maybe he could even see if they were close to the end or not, not knowing was also driving him (and everyone, really) crazy.

Another horrible thing was, despite the darkness they barely slept, the sounds at night were even worse than during the day and by Manwë the eyes. Glowing little things that floated in the darkness around them, always watching, always waiting, the food was dwindling and the was water already by half, with Thorin’s pace some dwarves end up getting thirsty more often and hungry too. Bilbo did not comment about it, but after entering the forest he stopped eating his seven meals and decided to take only four, his weight decreasing considerably, but there was little he could do until they were able to get out of that horrid place, worse would be if the food was over so bear the constant hunger he did without uttering a word, at least his wing was healing normally even with the lack of food.

The only silver lining in his tiresome hungry days was Thorin, most of them talked little, tired and hungry, but seeing Thorin’s surly face smoothing a little every time he looked at him was like a balm to his sore body and such a simple thing was able to bring joy to his day.

Some nights many would give up sleeping and just huddle together to keep themselves warm, Bilbo many times would tell them stories of the Shire in barely heard whispers, but he was sure all of them were able to hear and it was in one of those nights that he told them about Gólum and Sméagol and how strange his encounter was and why he couldn’t transform when they met again, he almost told them about the ring, but just like when with Gandalf he stopped midway. His excuse for the potion was simple: if he transformed his wing would heal wrongly and wouldn’t be able to fly anymore. That brought some interesting conversations.

“Not flying for a harpy is akin to be unable to walk...” Bilbo said looking at his dwarves even in the darkness, both races able to see well enough even without light. “For dwarves I would say it would be closer to be denied your craft, to see your family being taken away for you and unable to fight back. Is too heartbreaking to even imagine and cutting the wings of a harpy is the ultimate punishment to my kin.” Bilbo sighted sadly remembering his cousin Drogo and the accident that almost torn his wing away. “Of course there are cases where a harpy can lose their wing by accident, in these instances we can be crafty though, there are many apparels used to replace or fix a torn wing and despite long flights being impossible with them, the harpy can still reach the sky, even if for a shorter time. The harpy I met living in the winners of the mountain felt old, despite not exactly looking like it, it’s hard to explain, it can happen sometimes with our kind, harpies older than time itself, living by some sort of gift or curse given by one of the Vala.” Bilbo’s face was deep in thought, the golden harpy was sure Gólum’s was cursed to live so long by the ring, not a Vala, but the dwarves didn’t have to know it, and he suspected so was Sméagol, though for the white harpy he couldn’t say for sure. “I guess he was so old that those artificial wings were not a thing in his time.”

 

╳╳╳

 

Glóin groaned with half their party when they noticed the state of the bridge they would need to cross the river, or at least what was left of it. The anchors were the only surviving piece of structure that wasn’t completely destroyed by time and weather, the ropes were hanging loose, some of it completely covered by the river and there was no trace of the wood that formed the pathway.

“How are we going to cross it?!” He asked angrily, the forest was a foul thing and he just wanted to get away from there, reaching the river was as much of a blessing as a was a curse, they were still in the middle of Mirkwood and they couldn’t even cross it swimming because its dark foreboding waters were cursed!

“There’s a boat on the other side…” Glóin heard Bilbo say, the harpy eyes focusing far away on the other side, eerie glowing green slits, if he wasn’t so irritated and hungry and tired with the journey he would be intimidated, but as he was all he could think was: Great, a boat on the other side of the river, how useful. Before he could voice his sarcastic comment though Kíli interrupted him with a shout.

“There’s a rope here!” The young dwarf said too much enthusiastically for Glóin’s tastes.

“And I have a hook here! Somewhere!” Fíli said while fumbling with his bag until grabbing a metal hook, why and how completely forgotten at the moment.

Dwalin, arguably the strongest of them was the one to throw the rope, it fell too far in the first try and in the river in the second when Glóin was almost losing his patience and taking the rope away from his cousin the boat was hooked and he and the Company cheered!

They would finally be closer to get out of this thrice-cursed place.


	8. Chapter 8

╳╳ Chapter 8: Blessings and Hardships ╳╳

 

Bombur never hated his weight so much as at the moment he saw the deer jumping right in front of him like some sort of ghostly apparition and making him lose his balance. There was little to nothing he could do, the damned animal was beautiful, untouched by whatever foulness corrupted the forest, but its beauty wasn’t going to save him (nor feed him unfortunately), he was falling into the river and not even the sharp claws of his harpy friend was going to be able to hold him in place - wait, no he wasn’t trying to save him, he was trying to get the deer! Damn! He didn’t want to lose such a great meal after so long!

 _Nooooooo!_  Was his last thought as he felt the water engulf his body and sleep consume his mind.

 

╳╳╳

 

Everything happened fast, too fast and not for the last time Bilbo cursed being limited to the ground, he didn’t have a problem with rivers per se, different than most of his folk he did himself a favor and learned how to swim, to the horror of his relatives. Now at least such skill would prove absolutely useful if necessary, not that anyone needed to know that.

Also, the river was relatively calm and that was a good sing, Bilbo suggested to go with Bombur since he was the lighter of them all and Bombur the heavier, this way there would be no trouble with the boat. Thorin agreed despite worried (which warmed Bilbo’s heart enough to make him blush and do his best to hide a smile). Through the river their party went, three of them at a time, the boat was pushed back and the next group was up, everything was going fine until him and Bombur’s time - in hindsight he should have expected it, considering his luck through the journey so far, maybe Nienna liked to test how far hobbit’s faith would go if they were tested enough, the thought was as sarcastic as it was bitter.

When arriving close to the river’s bank Bilbo’s hearing was piqued by the sound of hooves to their right and despite the impossibility, he tried to shout for his dwarves in warning, but it was too late. An enormous white deer jumped in their direction and his reflexes kicked in, he was hungry and feeling threatened so his body acted before he could think, the claws of his good arm lashing out with a deep growl to the beast that came in his direction, painting the poor animal’s unblemished hide in four deep streaks of red, part of its guts escaping into the air even before the white (now red painted) creature hit the ground.

Then came the sound of something falling into the water and it was not the deer, the creature, Bilbo registered somewhere in his adrenaline-fuelled mind, fell into the river bank still struggling, little life left in its eyes. Bilbo’s body swirled so fast that if not by the whole situation he would be dizzy, he wasn’t so delusional think his body wouldn’t suffer later, though nothing of that matter in that moment. His bloodied claw lashed out once again but this time not with the intention to kill, but to save, grabbing Bombur’s clothes by the collar and in an impressive show of strength pulling the heavy dwarf from the water before the current could drag him away, both falling out of the boat and into the safety of the distressed band of dwarves that were his friends.

 

╳╳╳

 

Thorin felt as if his soul left his body when he saw the white deer jumping in the direction of Bilbo and Bombur, he heard stories of how harpies’ great weaknesses were water and despite hearing his beloved once say he knew how to swim, this river was cursed, he would not have the chance even if he tried!

To the bafflement of all (though he shouldn’t be surprised anymore) the eyes of their harpy flashed red and in flash the white deer was painted red, the echoing growl of his One reverberating through the silent forest and making the hairs of his neck stand up and his heart beat faster, if there was thing that dwarves admired, it was ferociousness.

Before anyone could understand what happened when Bombur fell Bilbo’s claws were already on the round dwarf, pulling him away from the cursed waters with frightening speed and unbelievable strength.

 

╳╳╳

 

Óin made room for his patients with borderline violence, he knew his friends were as worried as him with the two, but by Mahal, he was the healer and the lads needed space! Thorin, of course, refused to leave his hobbit’s side and there was little the grey-haired dwarf could do, Thorin was still his king, despite Óin sometimes wanting to hit him with an anvil.

He was quick and practical as always and for everyone’s relief neither was too harmed, despite Bombur’s unconsciousness, which Óin prayed fervently was due to the shock of being thrown into the river, not the curse that plagued whoever fall into its waters that Beorn and Gandalf told them before entering the forest. He wasn’t optimistic though.

Bilbo’s injuries were little to none, just a few scratches here and there caused by the fall, the blood in his hands and arm was solely from the deer he slaughtered, thankfully their small harpy was smart enough to not use the hand in his broken wing making Óin’s life much easier.

Bombur was even less harmed than Bilbo, the deer didn’t touch him and despite falling into the river for a few seconds all that hit him was water, his clothes were completely wet though, and his brother and cousin would have to change him as soon as possible to avoid getting him sick, if his unconsciousness was due to the curse he would need his body as strong as he could be to fight it off.

Óin sighed, at least no one had life-threatening injuries so far. Well, not counting the poor deer, of course.

 

╳╳╳

 

“I’m sorry.” It was the first words Bilbo said Thorin after Óin fussed around him to see if there were no injuries when he deemed the harpy fine he left him with Thorin to check on Bombur once again.

“Sorry? You saved Bombur and still got ourselves something to eat that isn’t hard bread or nuts.” Thorin chuckled despite his distress, really, his hobbit could be silly sometimes.

“If I was a second late Bombur could have been dragged by the river, I acted on instinct and ended up facing the deer first, I shouldn’t let my body dictate my actions.” There was such bitterness in Bilbo’s voice that it took Thorin aback and in a rare moment of weakness, he took Bilbo’s face into his hands, getting lost in his beloved eyes for a moment before speaking.

“You weren’t late. You got us food that is dwindling, you saved him from being dragged away.” His finger caressed Bilbo’s cheek for a moment and he smiled for his hobbit, a proud warm smile that made his beloved blush and his own heart swell. “You were fast5 and incredible my love, I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Bilbo started to stutter for Thorin’s amusement, as red as a tomato and absolutely adorable, but the perfect moment was cut short by the clearing of his nephew's throat, Kíli to be more precise, if glares could kill Kíli was to be dead, though by the stupid smile in his face he wasn’t aware of the danger he was.

 

╳╳╳

 

Fíli observed from a safe distance his uncle murder his brother with a glare and was happy to be out of the way, he was sure Thorin would put Kíli to cleaning duty as soon as they were settled by the day and the young heir last wish was to have to clean an entire deer, no thank you. Dwalin was studying the deer with Óin to see if it was safe to be eaten since seemed so different than the rest of the creatures of the forest (and by Mahal Fíli prayed that it was, he was sick of eating the same tasteless thing every day); Bombur was being taken care of by his brother and cousin, despite the scare Fíli was sure he would wake up, the river might be cursed, but if there was a race that was as stubborn as it was strong it was dwarves, he couldn’t let himself think otherwise and nor could the others, Bofur and Bifur worried faces were heartbreaking, but he could see the determination in their eyes as well, the belief shared between them all that his friend would make it no matter what, just like when Bilbo was on that bed not so long ago.

The Ri brothers and the rest were making camp, the little luminosity that permeated the forest was almost gone and there was little they could do with an unconscious friend.

Despite their worries when Óin announced that the deer’s meat was edible they rejoiced, finally, they would be able to eat something good, better yet, meat! They prepared a campfire and waited to see if the moths would appear and for their surprise very few came, brightening their mood even more. Bofur, despite not as great as his brother, made a decent cook and with Bilbo’s help prepared a great meal, one they didn’t have for too long and enjoyed immensely. A lot of the meat was smoked and dried to be preserved, which took them some more time in the same place to prepare everything, they stayed for three days a little away from the river, but the prospect of having more food on the way was worth the wait, so Thorin didn’t complain and they secretly were hopeful Bombur would wake up soon, so far not even the smell of food made their friend react, but they still had faith in him of course.

When the time was due to go, everyone was feeling a little better, their stomachs not hurting anymore and the small reprieve helped to lift their spirits by leaps and bounds, Bombur was put on a makeshift hammock and however was carrying him would switch at every four or five hours, their pace was considerably slower and Fíli could see the lines of worry in his uncle’s face, but there was little they could do, leave their friend was out of question as was going back to Beorn to look out for a cure.

They were in an impasse, mostly, but Fíli was not someone to let be consumed by negative thoughts, he was sure they would make it. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to tell, this part on the forest (the last chapter and this one) is basically a mix of the book (with the enchanted river) and the movies. :)

 ╳╳ Chapter 9: Sometimes it’s not wise to follow your dreams. ╳╳

 

Bofur never complained about his brother’s weight, their life was hard and though he never explicitly said anything he knew his brother had a problem gaining it, even when he ate the same as the others, worse still was when he ate more, normally when he was anxious or sad… after their mother’s death he got considerably bigger and Bofur still remained quiet, in dwarven society being big wasn’t seeing as something bad and as long his brother was fine he was also fine with it, as if Man or Elves knew anything about Dwarven culture.

That was, of course, until he was responsible for carrying him, his perspective changed quite _brutally_.

He knew, logically, it wasn’t (exactly) his brother’s fault, he was unfortunate to fall into the river and if not him any of them could have been in his place, but even so having to carry his very heavy brother through the damp and dark path of Mirkwood while their food was dwindling was not nice, despite logic, all he could think was: _Wake up for Mahal’s balls._

He couldn’t even feel worried when he looked at Bombur in the hammock and instead of a spellbound dwarf, all he could see was a smiling satisfied face as if his brother was having the best dream of his life! Well, he could kill to have a good night of sleep too, but no, he had to keep staying half-awake on these endless nights and worse, carry his brother half the day.

Bofur was normally a very happy-go dwarf, but now he was just tired… strangely, even his braids were lying straight and lifeless as if they too were tired of everything about that quest.

 

╳╳╳

 

Ori was completely and utterly done with Mirkwood, if he had the chance he would never ever again put his feet in any kind of wood or forest, ever. Almost a month has passed since they crossed the river, the deer have helped them at first, but soon the meat was gone and they were back at the tasteless rations they brought, their supply wasn’t supposed to end so soon with the added deer meat, but Bombur’s unconsciousness slowed them considerably, which didn’t help and the place as a whole made every one of them moody and irritable, all Ori wanted was to get out.

“Hm.” Ori heard Bilbo make a sound in their direction then look at his front again, side by side with Thorin. “Guys.”

The harpy eyes were open wide and his pupils were mere slits, the intensity of it’s green making Ori stop and look where the hobbit was transfixed.

“No…” Ori said in almost a whisper, there, a few meters in front of them was a campfire, one that looked suspiciously like the one they left in the morning.

“This- this is not possible!” Glóin shouted by Ori’s side making the young dwarf almost jump from his skin.

“What’s is going on…” Fíli said, walking past Ori and to the camp, strangely the closer they got, the farther away it seemed to become and in mere seconds, from one minute to another, a heavy fog engulfed the ‘camp’ from the forest making their party stop abruptly.

“We haven’t strayed from the path, this thing is practically a straight line, there’s no way we got lost!” Glóin shouted once again and Ori rubbed his ears, despite noisy, the fire-haired dwarf was right of course.

“Maybe this is what Tharkûn said about illusions…” Ori’s voice reverberated ominously through the Company, even though his voice was low everyone looked at him with worried eyes, even Thorin pierced him with a stare that made him think twice if uttering such words have been wise.

“We’re making camp here for the night.” Thorin said with finality, the fog was getting heavier and reaching them, the little light they had was being eclipsed by it and Ori had the feeling this was going to be another horrible night in the forest and all Ori could do was sigh heavily and start helping the others.

 

╳╳╳

 

After that strange mirage that appeared in front of the Company, nothing strange happened again and the incident was soon forgotten when Bombur started to show signs of waking up, saying things in his sleep and even moving here and there for everyone’s relief.

Two days after the dwarf cook started sleep talking he finally opened his eyes and was almost crushed by Bofur’s hug, despite his recent thoughts, Bombur’s brother was utterly relieved to see him finally away from the land of dreams, which was something Bombur didn’t share for everyone’s surprise.

“Where are we?” Bombur asked looking around with a confused expression. “I was having such a good dream…” He said his face turning into something dreamy, his eyes half glazed and unfocused. “I dreamt about a woodland king, he was so pretty and there was a feast! There was so much food, so much!”

 

╳╳╳

 

Bombur, Óin noticed, was heavily affected by the river’s magic, the thing not only magically induced his sleep, but it also affected his memories as well, the poor dwarf couldn’t remember anything after leaving Bilbo’s home.

The good news was that he was going to recover, the magic weakened with time and with it the curse. Given time his memories would come back, just like his consciousness. The new problem was that Bombur was absolutely certain that there was a feast somewhere in the forest and he refused to eat the dried food they offered him, or worse - he refused to keep walking, making everyone frustrated and Thorin infuriated. If not by Bilbo trying his best to calm down their king Óin was sure the angry dwarf would have hit Bombur in the head and carried him himself if needed to get them out of the accursed forest, despite his best judgment Óin couldn’t even blame Thorin to feel this way, he himself was feeling impatient with Bombur’s behavior and he was the healer, that was how much the forest was affecting him.

The night after Bombur’s awakening was a cold one and they started a fire, the more they went the fewer moths appeared and despite still ill-looking the forest seemed slightly better than when they entered there, which for Óin was a good sign, they were progressing after all.

 

╳╳╳

 

Bilbo sighed heavily and sat besides Thorin that night, the fire was weak, the night cold and everyone was tired, but his Soulmate presence was still like a balm to his nerves and he hoped his dwarf king could share the experience.

“Sometimes I feel so lost.” Thorin whispered by his side and Bilbo’s breath was caught in his lungs, the harpy never saw his dwarf sound so fragile and broken before and if the others weren’t already fast asleep and from a certain distance from them he was sure he would never sound like that. “I feel like hitting my head on a wall over and over.” He sighed, his face half illuminated by the fire - he looked old, older than Bilbo, older than he should be, but beautiful still.

“You are doing fine Thorin.” Bilbo’s voice was gentle and he poured in his words all the love he felt for this magnificent soul. “You are a great leader and you take care of us, the journey is not easy and I’m sure, absolutely sure, that others in your place would have crumbled way before.” Bilbo took Thorin’s hand in his own and caressed it softly with his claws, an affectionate gesture of his kind. “I believe you, they-" He said pointing to the sleeping company. "believe you.” The golden harpy looked the exiled king in the eyes and gave him a small, but genuine smile (with sharp teeth poking and making it look way more feral than intended). “You should believe in yourself too, you are a king, no matter what and you came here so far, you- no, we will finish this journey and we will retake Erebor, I don't believe it, I know.”

Thorin's expression softened at his words and the dark-haired dwarf squeezed the small-clawed harpy's hand in his own.

"You really are everything I needed in this life my _Kidhuzurâl_ , everything and more." His dwarf king said with a soft smile.

 

╳╳╳

 

When Balin opened his eyes with someone shaking him gently he was surprised to see it was still dark and in a second he was up and alert.

"Something happened?" He asked in a whisper, his brother was by his side with his brows furrowed, but he didn't seem ready for a fight, not yet at least.

"Bombur swears he saw a light on the forest, he insists is a feast made for us." He said massaging his temples, his voice was low and tired and Balin grimaced inwardly. "Óin said he's delirious, but Kíli saw the light as well, then Nori, Bilbo, and Thorin were on watch, but they didn't see anything, neither did I when I woke up."

"I SWEAR I AM NOT CRAZY, THIS IS A SIGN!" Bellowed Bombur and Baling cringed when he saw Bifur whack him so hard that the round dwarf almost lost his balance.

"Shut up!" Óin said in a low but threatening voice that despite not shutting Bombur made him speak more calmly.

"I'm not crazy, I saw, the prince saw, Nori saw!"

"It can be anything brother." Bofur tried to reason with him but to no avail.

"I know what I saw and I say it was a feast!"

"In the middle of the forest?" Bifur said in Khuzdûl.

"YES!"

Before anyone could reprimand him though, something on the edge of the forest caught everyone's eyes, a light far away and the faintest impression of a song.

"I TOLD YOU SO!" And before anyone could understand what was happening Bombur was already out of the path and into the forest.

"No!" Bofur cried and run in his brother direction with Bifur on his heels.

"STOP YOU BUNCH OF FOOLS!" Dwalin shouted, but chaos ensued, half of their party went to the forest and the other stood there dumbstruck.

"For Mahal's sake, what do I have here? Dwarflings?!" Thorin roared in disbelief, Balin could relate. "We can't let them alone in this accursed forest." His king said, his expression worried despite the ire in his voice.

Balin closed his eyes for a brief moment, he prayed Bombur was right and it was indeed a feast ahead of them, deep down though, he steeled himself for whatever was to come, he just hoped it wasn't goblins - again.

 

╳╳╳

 

Bombur sees the light again, it's far, but he is so sure that if he runs fast enough he can- just- reach it! It's exactly like in his dreams! He had a vision he was sure! His friends are all blind, they can't see it was Mahal sending it to him, a blessing, dwarves were known for things such as those, there was no other explanation and when he takes them there, they will sing him songs of gratitude!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kidhuzurâl - Golden One in Khuzdûl
> 
> I almost forgot to tell you guys, it's been a few chapters already that I'm having to write them again (not just reviewing and posting anymore - the ones I wrote previously are over), that's why I'm not posting two or more chapters in one go - there will be exceptions (of course), likely today, but the "normal" schedule will be one chapter per week. :)
> 
> I also started another story ~~why WHY~~ if you like GiME stories with a twist check it out, it's called [Lightning Tree](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515479/chapters/43881112)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a little glimpse of Kiliel for you! *throws confetti*

╳╳ Chapter 10: Spider’s Fangs and Harpy’s Claws ╳╳

 

_It is said that in times immemorial when the skies rattled with the sound of metal and the flapping of wings, all fell creatures quaked in fear._

 

╳╳╳

 

When Kíli was stopped abruptly by his brother and could finally see his surroundings in the darkness he felt the blood drain from his face.

There was light indeed, the pale light of the moon illuminating briefly the numerous pearly-white spiderwebs that surrounded them from all sides, his heart started to race and panic warred against the emotionless battle-trance that was drilled into him since his body was able to hold a weapon.

Thank Mahal his uncle and Dwalin were merciless with him and his brother because before he could think, could even breathe properly the battle began.

There were spiders everywhere he landed his eyes, giant, hairy, foul-smelling and venomous creatures and worse, there was no time to blink, just pick an arrow, put on the bow and release, pick another arrow and do it again - fast, fast, _faster_.

His body moved with more grace than any other dwarf in their party and he jumped and rolled avoiding legs, fangs, and venom, the others fighting beside him in a beautiful crazy coordinated chaos.

 

╳╳╳

 

Thorin shifted his form to the side, deflecting a spider and swiftly cutting the leg of another, these creatures were not great fighters per se with their size and long legs, but they were numerous and the venom in their fangs could paralyze a dwarf in a matter of minutes, worse still was the place they found themselves, they were surrounded by the creatures’ webs and not only once Thorin had to help a member of his Company to free themselves.

“We have to get out of here!” He shouted, by what he could see the entire Company was there, Bilbo, Mahal bless him, was right by his side fighting with his small elven sword with crude swiftness - as paradoxical as it sounded it seemed the best way to describe his way of fighting, Thorin could see he was not used to fighting this way - his healing arm preventing him to change and fight with his full potential - but still, his beloved was doing everything in his power against the wicked things. Bilbo’s bad arm was out of the sling; if only they fought those things a few weeks later he was sure they would have no chance against his golden bird of prey - but his harpy was still bandaged preventing him to fly, which was another disadvantage for his beloved One.

They needed to get out of there and back to the path - _fast_.

The Company kept fighting and doing their best to get back to the direction they came, but their fastest was still too slow and before they could even contemplate about getting back a silver gigantic spider, bigger than all others loomed behind the dwarf king.

 

╳╳╳

 

Bilbo hasn’t time to think what he was doing, his body moved before his mind processed, in a moment he was by Thorin’s side, the next he threw himself between the giant spider and his Soulmate.

The golden harpy barely felt the pain of the bite itself, only the frigid burning sensation of the venom being injected in his veins. When the fang of the spider sunk into his shoulder his world slowed down and blurred for a second and his vision went red - literally.

With a bellowing roar, his body shook and he felt his skin prickle, the gold of his feathers turning once more into the copperish doom of his ancestors rattling while the change took over like an evil twisted imitation of thunder, his magic-filled muscles pushing the sunken appendage away from his body. Despite the boon of vigor and strength given by his transformation, the damage was done and he knew that if he kept himself transformed he would lose control and to turn into a mindless beast in the middle of a life and death battle, which was much worse than running head-first into a nest of spiders.

He slashed the spider’s head with lightning fast claws, but before losing his grasp of sanity he let it go, the venom pulsing through his body and darkening his world, the last thing he heard was the desperate voice of Thorin crying out his name.

 

╳╳╳

 

Legolas Greenleaf, elf prince of Greenwood has heard many strange things in his life on his homeland, now sadly known as Mirkwood, but never he heard a cry so furious followed by another so desperate, the sound worried him to no end.

He was on patrol on the area with a party of guards led by him, they were tracking a group of spiders when they heard sounds of battle, followed then by the strange cries, what surprised him most though was what he found when they arrived.

For his bafflement it was a party of dwarves, they were rare on the last decades, but it wasn't that that caught his attention, it was how one of them seemed to cling into a harpy. Legolas could remember seeing them only when he was very young, not even a teenager yet, but the memories were enough to let him weary of them, these creatures weren't to be trifled with, not even when they looked dead.

Legolas ran through the treetops, swinging down a spider’s silk in order to land on it and kill the fell creature. He let his body slide on the forest floor under the spider facing a dwarf with a mohawk, slicing the spider in half with grace, and coming up kneeling with an arrow nocked in his bow and pointed at him. The rest of his party appeared right after him, drawing arrows and pointing them at the dwarves.

“Do not think I won’t kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure.” He said coldly eyes trained on the one in front of him.

“Help!” He hears a voice calling and a young dark-haired dwarf being pulled away by a spider.

“Kili!” Says another young dwarf, blond instead of dark-haired.

The dwarves whirled around and even the one with the harpy look up with what only could be worry reflected in his eyes, their fears were unfounded though, they may be dwarves, but the chances of them being killed by his party were higher than by the spiders with elves on patrol.

Tauriel ran through the forest with all the swiftness of their kind and killed three spiders with her bow and knife before hitting the floor, then killed the spider pulling the young dwarf with an arrow, turning to attack another one behind her, and yet another spider rushed toward the dwarf, endless irritating monsters.

“Throw me your dagger! Quick!” Legolas hears the dwarf say to Tauriel and has to physically force himself to not roll his eyes, he is a prince after all.

“If you think I’m giving you a weapon, dwarf, you’re mistaken!” Tauriel shouts and Legolas glows with pride inwardly, of course, she's not a fool, but sometimes she can be too kind-hearted for her own good.

Tauriel killed the spider in front of her with her knife, then spins and throws the knife on the other, killing the spider that was attacking the young dwarf, not as fast as Legolas would have done, but she was good, even he had to admit.

“Search them.” The elven prince says after all the spiders were taken care of by his party, much faster than any group of dwarves would be able to.

Soon after the dwarves were herded to a circle, two of them - the dark haired one that was with the harpy on his arms and another, older one were completely ignoring him and his guards, tending to the fallen halfling with unbreakable concentration. The prince felt a twinge of annoyance, but let them be for the moment, wary of the creature in the dark-haired dwarf's arms.

Legolas searched a red-haired dwarf and pulled a picture frame with two pictures out of the dwarf's pocket.

“Hey! Give it back! That’s private!” The dwarf protests and Legolas swiftly ignore his words.

“Who is this? Your brother?” Legolas asks with mocking curiosity.

“That is my wife!”

Legolas looks at the other picture, which is of a dwarf child if he’s not mistaken.

“And what is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?” He taunts.

“That’s my wee lad, Gimli!” The dwarf answers with unbridled anger, but all Legolas do is raise an eyebrow at him in contempt, there were little fun things to do in Greenwood and he wouldn't let this chance to annoy uninvited visitors to pass, not at all.

 

╳╳╳

 

It was love at first sight.

Yes.

That was the only word that could be described when Kíli landed his eyes on his _One_.

Because his One she was, he was _sure_ , absolutely sure and for his other half to be an elf-maiden! Sure, an elf so beautiful, so entrancing that the stars of the sky and the most precious gems a dwarf could take from the earth would pale compared to her beauty.

Her hair was like fire.

Her skin like ivory.

Her eyes the deep green of ancient forgotten forests.

She drifted through the trees like a spirit of nature and her very being glowed in Kíli’s eyes.

She was anything and everything Kíli could have asked for Mahal for his One and more, so much more. He was shaken, and happy, and scared, and delighted, he finally found her and his eyes twinkled with the knowledge, he only hoped with all his heart that he was her One too.

 

╳╳╳

 

Something was wrong with Tauriel, she was sure, or maybe it was the dwarf? He said his name was Kíli, why should she care? He was just a dwarf, a fleeting existence beneath her, or so she was taught by her king, by her peers.

She was young compared to most of them, but she remembered. Their crestfallen faces, they wounded their pleas. Her king said they were the ones that betrayed them first, that they were only receiving what they deserved, that they were below them. But were they? Aüle was their father, but they were just flesh and bones and blood, just like her, just like everyone.

The Fëa was the same for all even if the elves were tied to the world so much more strongly.

She has always wondered if her king was truly right.

Was he?

Was he not?

Maybe that was why he never seemed to like her much. Maybe he could sense her fleeting thoughts, her doubts.

Doubts now heavier than everything.

If the dwarves were beneath them, why did she feel a pull so strong that resonated on her very soul?

She didn't know, yet. Whatever it was she was going to discover, she was going to understand and the answer was right there - literally beside her, walking by her side with a strangely endearing smile, sometimes broken by worry when he glanced their injured friend, for a prisoner, Kíli was pretty strange.

 _Cute._ Her mind in a pure act of betrayal supplied.

 _Right. Cute he may be, but still strange._ She tried to counteract herself.

She did her best to keep her own little smile concealed from her elven companions, if Kíli saw something, well, that was only between the two of them, wasn't it?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, this chapter was hard, my muse is here, strong and ready, but the part where I have to pass the story from my imagination to words that complicate things, my brain doesn't like it at all and I end up struggling - not to write exactly, but to my brain not shut down while doing it. -_- ~~Or be distracted by a butterfly and when I notice a friggin week passed wHY BRAIN.~~


	11. Chapter 11

╳╳ Chapter 11: Old Grievances & New Foundations ╳╳

 

“Please." Thorin swallowed his pride, all his thoughts focused on his One, he couldn't let past grievances be the death of his Love, he would not let the past be Bilbo's doom. "He needs aid, he has been bitten by one of the spiders, a silver one."

The elven-king expression was as cold as Thorin remembered when he was young, yet the dwarf king could see something glimmer underneath his ancient eyes, though not decipher.

"He must be impossibly important, for a king such as yourself to beg in his stead."

The words were said with nonchalance, a life for Thranduil the Betrayer was nothing after all, not when he didn’t lift a finger when uncountable Dwarves and Man were burned by Dragonfire, how the Second Children didn’t resent him was beyond Thorin’s comprehension. The words felt like a whip to his very soul and he felt his fury flare like a behemoth, he wanted more than anything to avenge his people, to kill the elven-king with Orcrist, oh it would be so ironic, to both sides to be fair, he wanted to spit in Thranduil’s face all the things that happened to his people because of a single order. Right there on that moment, Thorin felt his body stiffen with rage and more than almost anything in the world he wanted to scream in both outrage and pain, to brandish his sword and stomp out of that place after spilling the elven-king blood. That was his level of hatred.

He breathed deeply though, and he did not do any of that.

He reigned his temper, his hatred, his very being and simply looked back at the small form in his arms, the fragile-looking golden bundle of feathers that was his gentle yet fierce and loyal hobbit.

He never looked so small, Bilbo has always been so full of life, so vivid, not even in Beorn's house he looked so haggard, so pale, so... breakable.

"He is." The dwarf king said simply, his heart bleeding his emotions into his voice without his intent. "He is my greatest treasure, my love, my One."

He looked back at Thranduil, the one that abandoned his people when they most needed, fire burning in the dwarven king eyes, and yet, also despair, he couldn't lose Bilbo, he simply could not.

"Please, help him."

 

╳╳╳

 

Thorin’s Company was silent and still by their king’s side, unusual for dwarves, even more for those that knew what the elven-king of Mirkwood represented, but even if Dwalin’s heart was burning with an amalgamation of ill emotions and intentions, he as well, kept quiet. If for him, a mere guard at the time, he couldn’t imagine how bad was for Thorin, then a prince, now a king.

He was proud of his companions though, they were all uncomfortable of course. The elves of Mirkwood were not like the ones from Rivendell, there they were respectful and even tried their best to accommodate them, despite the ‘playful pranks’ as Bilbo used to refer to the lack of meat in almost every meal, in Mirkwood though there was only coldness and scorn.

But they were the only ones that could help and if their king could swallow his pride and ask for them to help Bilbo, the least they could do was stay by his side and not shame him.

 

╳╳╳

 

 _Thorin._ Bilbo heard himself say, but his voice was nothing but the shadow of an echo. _Thorin._

The world was once more a blur consisting of endless pain and now, noise, so much noise, it was almost unbearable and the sound was coming from himself - his other self. His beast. It raged from within his very soul, clashing against an invisible cage, it roared and fumed and hurt his very soul as much as the venom coursing through his body.

 _How could you?!_ It was not with his normal voice that the question was asked, but the booming, growling voice of when his eyes were red and his body changed. The proud soul of an Eagle of Manwë, the Bird of Prey that inhabits every harpy.

 _Thorin._ His normal voice answered back. _My Soulmate..._

All he received back was more growling, waves of rage and violence, vulnerable harpies means death, the beast has been already caged once, to be confined again, this time by Bilbo’s own will? It was furious and with a reason, but-

_Fíli, Kíli. They are family now._

The beast raged, even more, flared by the idea of his loved ones hurt - _because he was also the beast,_  and it loved them as fiercely as his rational, calm self. Bilbo felt weak, tired, the seams of his souls were tightly knit, but when one side of yourself was so furious reigning over it was not easy, not at all.

 _The others, the Company, they are our friends as well, are you sure you won’t hurt them? attack them in your blind bloodlust? You? You_ alone _?_

 _Yes!_ It roared.

 _With the venom clouding our senses?! Our vision?! Our everything?!_ Bilbo’s voice boomed, angry, stern, tired, but no less strong than the beast itself. _Swear on our soul and I will let you free!_

Silence came like the snapping of jaws, swallowing the two voices of the same soul. Something happened then, the pain subsided and the beast, though not silent nor retreating, calmed to a degree.

Another voice came then, echoing through the sea of anger and helplessness of Bilbo’s world, a familiar voice, dear and forever lost, but engraved in the memories of her child for eternity.

A memory, of times long past, so dear, so needed in his times of sorrow, of despair.

The beast and he united, no more at odds with each other, rage and pain eased by the echo of the same person.

 _“Now, now, let’s see if you really studied, young bird!”_ Belladonna said in a mocking serious tone and though the fog still permeated his world Bilbo could hear the tapping of her fingers on the small wooden table of his home. _“What were we called in the beginning and why?”_ Her voice echoed again.

 _“We were called Wind Spirits in the common tongue and were often mistaken with the personification of the winds and storms; it was because at that time people didn’t know much about us yet, much less that we are descendants of a Manwë Eagle and an Ainu.”_ Echoed Bilbo’s young bored voice. _“Mooom! You know I know all of this already!”_

A face formed in the mist, a young-looking beautiful harpy with golden feathers and a cascade of curly hair, her expression very at odds with her looks. The world took form and color and Bilbo was now in his home in the Shire, a warm fire in the hearth and his mother in front of him with a notebook in her hands.

_“Right, right…” He waved his hand in defeat, even though she didn’t say a word, just lifted an eyebrow. “Because of that, the elves used to call us Raumo Hini or Storm Children and the dwarves called us Vellar Dharok, which is just plain rude I must tell.” He finished in a huff._

_“Sky Beast.” His mother said with a smile. “It has a charm to the name I suppose and a hint of truth, though to call us ‘beasts’ today is completely unnecessary, I would prefer something along the lines of Sky Dwellers, it’s way more accurate.”_

_“More like Tree Dwellers.” Bilbo joked, making his mother smile._

_“Right, right, to the next question young man!”_

_“Mooom I want to go fly with the other kids!” He whined, but his mother just lifted another brow and he was silent again._

_“Explain the Soul Shattering event. How and why.”_

_Bilbo stopped the whining and his face lost some of his joy, he knew every harpy needed to know this, but the topic was heavy, no matter how many times you approached it._

_“Our race was not created by Eru like the elves and Man, nor were we created with intention by a Vala like the dwarves and then given life by Eru.” The young harpy looked at the fire blazing and breathed deeply. “Narwaer, the first harpy to ever be born, daughter of Amontaur and Ûrî was both a Maia and a mortal creature, her soul was holy like her father, but also not connected to the fate of Arda, like the race of Man. No one needed to give her a soul, for it was hers since the beginning and so was of her children and their children's children, which both surprised and delighted the Valar. What no one expected was that the holy side of our souls inherited Amontaur’s animalistic side and fully embraced its nature, giving birth to the beats that live within us.” Bilbo took a sip of his tea that was laying in the table for a while and continued. “The only fates that we are truly bond to are to our Soulmates and our Soulmates alone thanks to the gift of our merciful Nienna.” Bilbo stopped and took another sip, a gift the Soulmates binding was called but was it truly? Sometimes, it looked more like a curse._

_“But…” His mother said after he stopped for a few seconds, not very willing to continue._

_“But Nienna’s gift and the dual nature of our souls can also be a great affliction.” Bilbo placed his empty teacup back on the table and hugged his knees, fluffing his feathers a bit to let the heat of the fire reached his skin. “When our Soulmate dies of a violent or unexpected death, if the Soulbinding is finished our souls are ripped apart to accompany our beloved one, when the one that was left living is not ready to go yet, but is pulled still, the seams that unify our holy and mortal souls are ripped apart, shattering and leaving behind the living body of the harpy with pieces of our broken holy side to fuel it. Mindless and filled with despair and sorrow for losing their most precious beings, a hollow body, moved by a broken heart.” Bilbo stopped again, frowning. “Why it has to be so…”_

_“Cruel?” His mother completed with a sad smile and he simply nodded with a pained expression._

_“We were not created by the gods, my love, we came to existence by chance, or maybe by stubbornness, I would prefer to say.” His mother looked at him with kind eyes and leaned in front of him touching his little hands, he was not a toddler anymore, his feathers were golden now and he could even fly, even if it was not nearly as perfect as his parents, but despite that all he was still just one hundred years old and he felt young and small talking about such cruel things such as their fates. “We are strong and beautiful, like a Maia, but we are also flawed and mortal, like a Man… and that is the beauty of our kind, we can understand all the free races so well, we can understand the elves and their timelessness, for we live lives so long that may seem an eternity for others, but we are not eternal and that is a gift unto itself, we understand mortality, because we are mortals. But do not let such sad tales rob you of your happiness, nor ever let it robs you of your Soulmate, Soul Shattering only happens in war, my love, when Harpies have to fight and might lose, we live in times of peace love, so when we reach the age that our bodies can’t go on anymore our holy souls let themselves be consumed and slowly they merge with our loved ones, and… when we die, we die together. There’s no pain, no sadness, no despair.” His mother smile has always soothed Bilbo’s doubts, fears, but still there was so many things about their kin that worried him._

_“What... what if your soulmate is not a harpy? Or… why sometimes we lose control, even without the Soul Shattering event?” He asked with wide eyes, his voice doing little to hide his fears._

_“You know the answer love, to both of them.” She said, sitting back on the chair and waiting._

_Yes, he knew._

_He knew, but still._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting a chapter last week people, a succession of bad things happened and I also got a cold that I'm only now recovering, though my head is still killing me.
> 
> I hope you guys like the story so far, there's a lot to happen still and I'm planning on rewriting the first part (Of Feathers Claws and Werebird Hobbits) after I finish this one, I won't alter the storyline or anything, just add things, make it more detailed like this one, mostly about Bilbo and Thorin's pining at the beginning lol.
> 
> I will try to write one more chapter until tomorrow, but I won't promise anything because of mY heAd weLp x_x
> 
> Oh the lore I wrote about harpies being Wind Spirits it's from the early tales of them in Greek and Roman mythology and more are about to be written, hoho!
> 
> Oh and:
> 
> Second Children = Man (the elves are the First Children of Eru)
> 
> Raumo Hini = Storm child (Quenya)
> 
> Vellar Dharok = Sky Beast (supposedly Khuzdul, but I'm not sure if it's right if you know, helP)
> 
> Narwaer = Red One (Quenya) ~~because her feathers were red~~
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

╳╳ Chapter 12: Of Healings and Smiles. ╳╳

 

The harpy was treated of his wounds, they were very few not so surprisingly, their kind was known by their armor-feathers, that he has been bitten at all was odd in Aldon’s opinion, sure though, he never voiced them.

As the Head Healer of the Greenwood Realm there was little to talk and much more to do, the other races depicted elves as invincible, but this picture was not true, not there at least, the forces of his kingdom was great, the Woodland Realm guards truly gifted, but they were few compared to the horrors that now inhabited their woods - Mirkwood was a sad yet fitting description of what their beloved home has become.

The problem, as always, be it for elves, Man or any other race, was the venom. Normal, black giant spiders were easily treatable, their venom strong though not deadly, but the healer dwarf of the guests said it was a silver one, smaller than the normal spiders. Those were more intelligent, stronger and different than their counterparts, its venom lethal.

Aldon finished brewing the antidote and with the liquid still scalding he dipped both his hands in the bowl, his face as impassive as always despite the heat. That alone though would not save the harpy.

Elven magic was necessary and a strong one to that, he would have to retire for a few days after the healing session. Not that it mattered, differently than some of his peers Aldon didn’t see any difference between the races of Middle Earth, not in regards of worthiness at least, unless they were fell, corrupted things. For him all lives were sacred and even if it was a dwarf - a race that among them there were many that hated his king fiercely - he would have done all in his power to save.

Aldon _has_ helped the dwarves when they passed through their kingdom after the attack of the dragon, though discreetly and with enough robes to not be recognized as an elf. He was suspicious that his king knew but said nothing and to that nothing would be said in return, he was satisfied to have done at least something to help and that was that.

The dark-haired elf knew his king better than most, or so he thought, Thranduil wasn’t the easiest person to serve or to be around, but he was certain his king was _not_ evil nor so heartless as people used to think of him, he was… just very bad at expressing anything, be it his feelings, opinions or anything important, which exasperated the healer and everyone that truly knew their king.

“Turn him on his back slowly.” The Head Healer said to one of his pupils, the room was empty aside from the Dwarf healer that was observing the proceedings, his stay granted by Aldon himself.

After the harpy was turned he massaged the bitten area - that have been previously disinfected - with his still hot hands chanting the purging spell, the venom slowly but surely started to ooze out of the bite-wound, a dark grey liquid that smelled strongly of alcohol. It took at least an hour to take it all from the harpy’s body, the young hobbit was little, but his body was strong and resilient, if left the venom would take days to be able to kill him, and the Head Healer was surprised to feel that even then he had a chance of surviving - tough little creatures were harpies. Despite the small chance of survival of the harpy he was glad he had been brought to him as soon as it was bitten, to take it all from the victim’s body was better done early or it could take _even_ more time and even stronger spells to be done - spells that only a higher elf or a wizard would be able to perform.

Aldon washed his hands in a clear water basin, they were still red from the antidote, but the healing was still not done, he would have to stabilize the harpy’s blood now and then the body, all of that through the manipulation of his own Fëa’s energy extended to the carnal plane, one of his unique gifts and also his specialty.

He breathed deeply before starting, touched the living, breathing creature in front of him and then closed his eyes, focusing his very soul in the treatment.

 

╳╳╳

 

Óin never thought he would think healing wounds could be beautiful, but the elf healer that was treating Bilbo was in another level.

The dwarf healer noticed his pupils called him with male pronouns, though he was sure the elf was female - the body at least, not that it mattered for him, dwarf genders was a hazy thing, he was surprised Thorin’s party was so consistent, but with his interactions with elves in this trip he learned that it wasn’t a dwarf thing, elves and dwarves were more alike than any other of his kin would be comfortable to admit, not that he would ever say it  though - he liked to keep living, thank you.

Bilbo’s treatment took time, he stayed silent and observing for almost three hours and despite not flashy it was beautiful seeing how the magic worked around the wound and Bilbo’s body, he could feel the elf’s intentions and he was certain that all it wanted was to cure their hobbit, that and nothing more. There was no animosity, no prejudice, no fear, only a single focus - to heal.

The dwarf healer liked the Mirkwood elves as much as any other in dwarf in his party, he too felt as betrayed by the elven-king as any other dwarf of Erebor, but he simply couldn’t _not_ admire the work of the elf-healer, it was almost an art the way he treated Bilbo’s wound, a thing of beauty in its complex directness.

The old dwarf was glad that they were found by the elves despite his animosity towards them, glad because despite the many that looked at them with contempt, this one healer was not among them.

 

╳╳╳

 

Thorin’s Company was guided to guest rooms by a few elves that were on the throne room after Bilbo was taken by the healers with Óin on their heels, but the dwarf king stayed by Thranduil’s request - something that surprised him, not the fact that he stayed, but that it was really that - a request. The elven-king gave him the opportunity to rest before meeting again, but Thorin declined, a part of him out of suspicion, another because whatever that had to be said he preferred to do it soon and then go to his One, or at least wait until he was cured of the venom as close as possible.

“Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon.” The elven-king said as soon as Thorin's party left, he was still sitting in his throne almost as if bored, Thorin’s blood boiled for a second, he hasn’t said a word about why they were there and the presumptuous bastard hit the nail on the head, by Mahal’s beard!

Thranduil looked him in the eye and for a second Thorin could swear he saw the elf’s face shift and the shadow of _something_ appear, but he couldn’t tell.

“You have found a way in.” Thranduil said and got up, circling the dwarf king without really looking at him. “You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule: the King’s Jewel, the Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that.” Despite not looking at him directly Thorin could see a strange light in the elf’s eyes - a gleam of something he saw in his own grandfather - greed. “There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight.” The elven-king smirked, a cold strange thing that fitted his face, a genuine smile would be too bizarre. “I offer you my help.”

 

╳╳╳

 

Thorin’s Company - or at least the rest of it - were led through the raised wooden walkways of the Woodland Realm. The entire place was as majestic as alien to Fíli and to the rest of them, he supposed, built out of tree roots in a subterranean cavern, a strange yet perfect blend of nature and architecture, for some reason it unnerved him.

They walked for a few minutes into a great hallway filled with leaf-like doors and one by one they were stripped of their weapons - of course, they protested, but one of the guards mentioned that was the condition for Bilbo’s recovery they all fell silent and begrudgingly let them took them away.

The elf in charge of taking away his weapons sadly found another of his large daggers hidden in his coat, and he sighed in frustration, he has many hidden for a reason dammit. While he suffers, he hears Kili talking with the red-haired she-elf as she leads him to his room.

“Aren’t you going to search me?” His brother said sounding a little too pleased and Fíli had a foreboding feeling even before his empty-headed little brother ended the sentence.

“I could have anything down my trousers.”

Yeah, and that was it, the premonition was fulfilled, the little shit was flirting _with an elf._  There was a line, his brother saw it and crossed it without a care in the world.

“Or nothing.” Thankfully that was the she-elf response and Fíli was momentarily relieved until he saw the little smile on the elf’s face.

 _No._ He thought a little bit horrified. _She likes him back._

 

╳╳╳

 

Tauriel haughtily showed Kíli's room and walked away, the somewhat cute dwarf looking after her with a lopsided smile, she had to do her best to pretend she didn't see, nor to smile back and receive odd stares from her peers, before she could do anything more than a few steps though, her prince stopped her before she could walk away.

“ **I Nogoth amman e tîr gin? Tauriel?** ” _Why does the Dwarf stare at you, Tauriel?_ Legolas asked.

“ **Ú-dangada**?” _Who can say?_ She answered him not surprised with his question at all, it was not a secret his feelings for her, but she never could return them and she was very clear in that regard since ever. She peeked back at Kíli before walking away from the hallway of guests, looking away from her prince, her lips twitching and forming a smile against her will.

“ **E orchal be Nogoth.** ” _He’s quite tall for a Dwarf._ She ended up saying before realizing she said her thoughts out loud,  _again,_ and trying her best to look as nonchalant as possible.

By Ilúvatar, sometimes Tauriel got really tired of living among her peers and king… and prince. She was supposedly young, but the Woodland Realm was a complicated place, in many ways. “ **Pedithig**?” _Do_   _you not think?_ She tried.

“ **Orchal eb vui, mal uvanui en.** ” _Taller than some, but no less ugly._ Her prince answered with contempt and she had to suppress a sigh, she really disliked the side of her childhood friend that acted like a younger version of his father, Legolas wasn’t a bad person, not at all, but he also had so much potential to be more. She just wished he would grow out of it with time.

Also, he was totally wrong. _Kíli wasn’t ugly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was surprisingly easy to write! I really liked it for some reason haha!
> 
> More will come soon! :)
> 
> Hmm I may add an OC tag and maybe a gender-nonconforming one too? I like to vary and jump away from the binary-spectrum because I am gender-neutral myself so you might expect more characters like that thrown in here and there. ^^
> 
> Oh, also, this line:
> 
> There was a line, he/she/they saw it and crossed it.
> 
> Is a meme in my country haha, I couldn't resist and had to use it, sorry, not sorry. xD


	13. Chapter 13

╳╳ Chapter 13: A Moment of Respite and Lurking Shadows. ╳╳

 

Green slitted eyes opened abruptly and focused on a very bright ceiling hurting instantly, the dream, no - the memory turning nothing but an echo in Bilbo’s mind thanks to the pain, he felt it spread from his head to his neck, then to the rest of his body and all he could do was roll over covering his eyes and groan.

“It’s better if you don’t move.” He heard a familiar voice behind him and his brain took a few seconds to recognize.

“Thorin.” He rasped, the pain still there, but his body relaxing considerably, his Soulmate was alive, thank Niena for her mercy. “Are you alright?” He turned on his back again, this time looking out for his love and also checking their surroundings. The place they were was a big room illuminated, for Bilbo’s surprise, by natural sunlight, his beloved dwarf was sitting in a chair close to his bed.

“I’m fine love, and thank Mahal, so are you.” Thorin took one of Bilbo’s small hands on his and kissed it lovingly, Bilbo’s face went red immediately, but he couldn't contain his smile, nor the urge to grab his beloved and kiss him as fiercely as his body was capable - what sadly wasn’t much more than a peck, but Thorin returned it with such tenderness that all that Bilbo wanted was to drown in that moment forever..

 

╳╳╳

 

Nori finished tucking his little brother in his bed (Ori was already asleep or he wouldn’t ever let him do it) and covered his older brother with an elven blanket, Dori had fallen asleep in one of the chairs of their room by sheer exhaustion, even though Nori had tried to convince him to sleep on the bed several times - his brother’s pigheadedness was one of the motives they had so many discussions over the years after all - but this time Nori just let it go and waited, he learned that sometimes words simply didn’t work.

Bilbo was now with Thorin, also sleeping, but thankfully not at risk anymore. They would need to stay for some more days in the elven-king realm for everyone’s consternation, but Bilbo has been hit hard by the spider venom and even though they hated the idea of being in debt with a person such as Thranduil, they have all agreed that waiting for Bilbo’s full recovery was their priority, so wait they would. The elves animosity was still an almost physical thing, he could feel it in their stares or in their words even if he couldn’t understand them, but they remained begrudgingly polite, even Thorin’s sword, that has at first being taken by the elven prince was given back to him, though the weapons of the rest of the Company was still ‘stowed away for security measures’, yeah, right, at least he was able to hide a few of his own blades and he was sure Fíli was able to keep some as well, hidden knives were they specialty and if push comes to shove at least they would have _something_ , well in Nori’s case more than something, he also had his needles and his garrote wire, not that he wanted to use them there.

Nori went to his own bed, but despite tired sleep wasn’t exactly a friend of his and its visits were few and in between, so he resigned himself in just laying there, thinking, a thing he has been done a lot in these last months on this mad journey.

So many things happened in so little time, well, little compared to a lifetime at least, for so long he just lived and did his best to bring food for his brothers, he never thought he would ever befriend and harpy! Or fight against orcs, wargs, ride eagles! Be almost eaten by giant spiders! And so many other things that happened. Mahal, fate was really a funny thing, wasn’t it? To think a thief could ever be part of a journey, one that could end in glory or tragedy, but either way, would be _remembered_. If he lived or died, he would still be remembered as one of Thorin’s Company, not as the poor sewer rat that had to steal to have something to eat at the end of the day, no, maybe he would still be seen as someone a bit shady, the friendly rogue perhaps? Mahal, he hoped so.

A small smile tugged his lips at his silly thoughts, Ori would be proud of him if he ever voiced such things, he always saw his older brother as such even when he learned the truth about what consisted Nori’s job or perhaps he was just more tired than he imagined. He yawned and turned on his bed, for all the elves animosity the beds on the rooms given to them were top notch, a little bit too soft for someone like him, used to sleep on the hard ground or whenever he could, really. Still, sleep was slowly but steadily winning him over, when his eyes started to get heavy though a familiar face appeared in his mind-eye, dark hard eyes, a mohawk and why was he thinking about Dwalin before sleep? Why…

Before he could think though, sleep finally won over him and any coherent thoughts were left in the waking world.

 

╳╳╳

 

After the dwarves were settled Tauriel went back to her king for the patrol report, not something she was looking forward at all, her mind was on Kíli and the other dwarves. Maybe she could be on the team that would escort them when they decided to leave?

She sighed, before they were gone maybe she could speak a little more with that strange tall dwarf... who knows maybe he would want to get out for a walk… and she… may bump into him. By chance.

Yeah, totally by chance.

Wait, what was she thinking? _This is getting a_ little _out of hand, isn’t it?_

When she arrived at the Throne Room she stayed in the corner, trying to gain some more seconds before actually facing King Thranduil, reports were never something she liked to do, normally because her king was never satisfied with the results, even if she wiped out all the spiders of the entire forest.

“I know you’re there. Why do you linger in the shadows?” She almost jumped hearing her king, but regained her composure and stepped out, she wasn't hiding for Eru's sake!

“I was coming to report to you.” She said in her best monotone imitation, different than most of her kin she _was_ emotional and just like her parents she wasn’t ashamed of it, but when you work under someone such as Thranduil, you have to learn, even though having to conceal it was never easy.

“I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed not two moons past.” He said as cold as always and Tauriel really wanted to sigh, or better make a sarcastic remark, of course, sadly she didn't.

“We cleared the forest as ordered, my lord, but more spiders keep coming up from the south. They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur; if we could kill them at their source-”

“That fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures, that is your task.” He said cutting her as if she hadn't uttered a word, but she was not done.

“And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?” She said hardly being able to hide the emotions in her voice.

“Other lands are not my concern. The fortunes of the world will rise and fall, but here in this kingdom, we will endure.”

 _Of course, they are not._ She thought bitterly.

The red-haired elf said nothing, her face as impassive as she has been taught, she bowed and walked away decided to go back to the guest's hall, but before she could go Thranduil spoke once again.

“Legolas said you fought well today.” His intonation was strange, almost…

Tauriel felt like a stone dropped in her stomach and froze for a moment, she looked back at her king with a tight smile on her face.

“He has grown very fond of you.”

 _Oh really, I haven't noticed._ She growled in her mind.

“I assure you, my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain of the guard.” She said, voice devoid of any emotion.

_Yes, lie through your teeth to your king, one that has lived through millennia, great idea Tauriel._

“Perhaps he did once. Now, I’m not so sure.” He said while passing through her and putting a glass of wine for himself.

“I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan elf.” She said, Legolas knew she saw him as a brother, he couldn't have asked his father permission, could he?

“No, you are right. I would not. Still, he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none.”

Tauriel almost sighed in relief after hearing his words.

_Thank Eru._

╳╳╳

 

In the shadows of Mirkwood a group of fell creatures marched with one single focus: find a party of dwarves and slaughter them all.

After their escape at the foot of the Misty Mountains Bolg’s sire have given him the task of persecuting the slippery bastards and he accepted it with glee, a chance to end one of the dwarven lines? Hunt them like animals, see their despair, their fear - though dwarves weren't so fun when it came to suffering, boring warrior blood that didn’t beg for their lives at the end, Man was so _much more fun_ when it came to destroying their pride. There was the strange little bird though, his sire told him to not underestimate it, but the little thing was so broken in that last battle, bloodstained and _fragile_  Bolg haven’t joined them at that time, but he observed and he saw, oh he saw, and he wanted so much to know how the flesh of such a creature would taste. His father nemesis, the dwarf of Durin’s line seemed to care for it and that was an even better motivation, if he couldn’t make them beg for their lives he would see them break by taking those important to them and wasn’t that an exciting thought?  

Bolg have ridden as his sire commanded, as fast as if the whips of Mordor were on their heels, making his orcs march without rest to the gates of the fool's king realm, they were close, _so close_.

"The gates are guarded." One of his subordinates reported and was met with a slap in the face strong enough to bleed, any other orc would have been too stupid to lead them indeed.

"Not all of them!” He roared. “Follow me, you idiots!" And with a cruel smile, they strode away through the river.

_I will find you, and I will feast upon your flesh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I made up for the lack of chapters last week, right? :)
> 
> I'm very inspired this week! I really want to write one more chapter before this week ends, but let's see how much my brain is going to cooperate haha!


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